


The Claddagh Ring

by ferporcel



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: Angst, Community: sshg_exchange, F/M, Humor, Romance
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2012-04-15
Updated: 2012-04-15
Packaged: 2017-11-03 16:14:57
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 20
Words: 28,105
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/383424
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ferporcel/pseuds/ferporcel
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Severus Snape had lost something precious in the Battle of Hogwarts, and it hadn’t been his life. Hermione Granger seemed to have this precious something that Severus Snape had lost. Could it be a Claddagh ring or something else completely?</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Possessions

**Author's Note:**

  * For [vanityfair](https://archiveofourown.org/users/vanityfair/gifts).
  * Translation into Português brasileiro available: [O Anel Claddagh](https://archiveofourown.org/works/384059) by [ferporcel](https://archiveofourown.org/users/ferporcel/pseuds/ferporcel)



> **Disclaimer:** I’m not J. K. Rowling.
> 
> This story was written for vanityfair00 as a gift on the Winter 2007 round of the sshg_exchange on LJ. 
> 
> The prompt: DH ignored. Snape teaches at Hogwarts. Hermione is an Auror out saving the world. Their courtship in letters – what do they look like? 
> 
> I know the prompt asked to ignore DH, but it doesn’t work like this for me, although I had no problem in ignoring the Epilogue. I hope you enjoy it.
> 
> My betas - Annie Talbot and Machshefa - are wonderful people who have hearts bigger than they realize and had made writing this story possible. My love to you two and to all the others who helped me in some way. *hugs*
> 
>   
> 

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Severus regains almost all his possessions.

The noise in the Great Hall was loud and cheerful – too much so if you asked Severus Snape, Defense Against the Dark Arts professor. He should remain in his quarters for meals when Harry Potter was at Hogwarts. If only the prat would let them know when he was coming, that would be helpful.

As it was, Severus was in for a noisy evening. Since the end of the war and his recovery from the Battle of Hogwarts, there wasn’t a time when Potter was around that the annoying man would skip a visit with him. He had tried to point out that he didn’t require or want his friendship on several occasions, but this… _new_ Harry Potter seemed to have made it a matter of life and death to be civil and friendly towards him.

_Ah yes, here he comes._

“Good evening, Severus.”

Severus mumbled a greeting.

Potter chuckled. “I can see you’re fine.”

_What is wrong with this prat?_

“Listen, I want to know if we can meet after dinner; there is something I need to talk to you about.”

Of course there was. Severus sighed, searching for an excuse to evade the meeting.

“I won’t take much of your time,” Potter assured him. “It’s Ministry business.”

The bloody Ministry. Since Potter had become an Auror, he’d used the Ministry as an excuse to meet with him as often as reasonably possible, and in the end, all he wanted to talk about was his mother. Lily wasn’t satisfied with all his previous sacrifices, or so it seemed. She still wanted to punish him for his mistakes by pushing her Potter son in his way after all this time.

“Fine, but I only have a moment to waste with you, Potter,” he finally agreed.

“I promise it won’t take long.”

Severus harrumphed, knowing that calculating smile all too well by now. _Why, Merlin? Why?_

He stood and strode out of the Great Hall, leaving Potter to follow as he could. Severus took a moment to enjoy how out-of-breath Potter became, before opening the door to his office for them. Harry took a seat without being invited, as usual.

“Did you wait for my mum when you walked together, or did she have to run to keep up with you, too?”

_Here we go._

“And I’ll learn how this concerns the Ministry in no time, I’m sure,” Severus dismissed.

“I guess that’s a yes to the latter.” Harry smiled.

“I don’t have time for chit-chat, Potter. If you really have something of any importance to say, I would advise you to say it now, before I send you on your way.”

“No tea?”

Severus, standing across his desk from Potter, leaned threateningly with his palms on the desktop to balance his weight. He really hoped the annoying brat would take the hint and go on with whatever excuse he had for this meeting.

“Okay, okay,” Potter said defensively, “I’m here to tell you that the last of the bureaucracy regarding the investigation on your possessions was sorted out yesterday. You can have your books back, finally.” 

Another smile, as if getting back some old Dark Arts books was like having Christmas every day.

“If that’s all, leave the books and get out of my sight.”

“Oh, but I don’t have the books with me.”

Severus rolled his eyes. If only the brat had inherited more than the green of Lily’s eyes – let’s say, for instance, her brain. Severus took the chair behind his desk and busied his hands arranging parchments, then rested them crossed over the pages. Resigned, he looked at Potter.

“You’re not here only to deliver this message. Even you know what an owl is and how to use one.”

Potter sighed. “Is it so astonishing that I wanted to visit you? I thought you would like to know that the Ministry has nothing they can hold against you any more, and I wanted to give you the news myself. Is that so wrong?”

“How many times will I have to tell you that you being Lily’s son doesn’t make you a potential friend, _Potter_?” Severus emphasized the wrong last name while scowling and then pretended to read the top parchment on his desk. “The message was delivered; your work here is done. Now, get out.”

Severus heard more than saw Potter stand up and walk to the door. Unfortunately, the brat had something to add before leaving him alone.

“I was going to offer to bring the paperwork to be signed here, but since you don’t like my visits, you’ll be required to meet the Head of the Commission for War Affairs sometime next week. I was only trying to save you a trip to London, but it seems you like traveling. Good evening, Snape.”

_Prat!_ Severus wasn’t expecting such a Slytherin move from his current Gryffindor nemesis. Maybe he _had_ inherited something other than Lily’s eyes after all: her cruelty. What Potter didn’t know was that Severus wasn’t only a Master in Potions, but also in subtlety, cruelty and revenge.

He looked back to the parchments under his hands – a study of poisons, his new specialty. He was expected to vouch for its validity before the _Journal of Potions and Poisons_ would publish it. His best ideas always came when he was in a Potions lab, and a trip to the dungeons seemed in order. He stood, Summoned a relevant book from a shelf, and left his office. Severus had some planning to do.

~o0oOo0o~

Severus surrendered his wand to the young witch and waited for it to be returned. He didn’t like this procedure. Actually, he didn’t like any of the Ministry’s procedures and avoided visiting the place as much as possible. He had been lucky in the last five years and wouldn’t have been there today if Harry bloody Potter hadn’t made such an impossible dare. Because it had been a dare, and as long as Severus lived, that brat would never have the last say on anything.

He walked to the lifts without as much as a glance around. Focus was the key for a successful visit to the Ministry. He would take the lift, find the right level, meet this War Affairs person and get out of there.

The voice announced the floor for the Department of Law Enforcement and Severus got out, following a couple of paper airplanes. There was a small reception counter, and a young witch turned to greet him. Her warm smile dissolved as soon as she recognized him.

_No smiles for me, I see._ It would be a sad thought if it wasn’t amusing. 

“I’m here to see the Head of the Commission for War Affairs.” 

_Fidgeting… still amusing, if somewhat bordering on annoying._ Severus tried to recall her name. She’d been a Hufflepuff… _Summers? No, Summerby._

“Miss Summerby,” she winced, “if it’s not asking too much, tell me where I can find the Head of the Commission for War Affairs; you can act like an annoying first-year afterwards,” he sneered.

“Third desk to the left, sir,” she managed.

Severus left the way she’d pointed, intent on getting this quickly over with. Of course, this was before…

“Professor Snape! What a pleasure!”

_Potter! Of course it’s Potter!_ He growled in frustration. “You’re the Head of the bloody Commission for bloody War Affairs.” He glared down his nose at the bane of his continued existence.

“Surprised?” Potter smirked.

“I won’t play games, Potter. Give me what is mine so I can get out of here, and leave me alone.”

“There is no need to rush, Professor. Please have a seat. Would you like some tea?”

Severus looked disdainfully at the chair Potter had offered. _He has got to be kidding me_ , he thought. “Keep the books, Potter.” He turned to leave.

“No, wait! I’m sorry.” 

Severus stopped and looked over his shoulder to the Brat-Who-Lived, who was now on his feet by the desk. “No, you’re not,” Severus declared.

“What is wrong with sitting to have a cup of tea, sir? I’m just trying to be polite.”

“I’m here for my possessions, Potter, not for politeness. If you don’t object, I’d like to have them and be gone.”

“Fine,” Potter agreed, quiet for a moment. He went about searching for something in his mess until he produced a piece of parchment and offered it to him. “I won’t hold it against you if you took a seat to read before signing it.”

Severus took the parchment and the seat. He wasn’t about to sign anything with the Ministry seal on it without a thorough reading beforehand. From the corner of his eye, he tracked Potter’s movements, and when the brat cursed quietly, Severus forgot the parchment for a moment. 

“Towler,” Potter called the man walking past his cubicle. The man stopped to listen. “Can you ask Granger to bring me the book on your way?” 

“Great, you’ve been borrowing my possessions. How rich,” Severus muttered, but only because he was sure Potter could hear him. Then he decided to read the document first and be indignant about Potter’s behavior later, when he would be able to hex him properly. 

He had reached the end of the document when the cubicle was invaded by loud protest. 

“Harry, you said I had until tomorrow to read the–”

“I’m afraid I’ll have to cut short your assault on my possessions, Miss Granger,” he said, head bowed over the document, when she failed to complete her rant. He signed the parchment and offered it to Potter. He shrank the books Potter had separated, loading them into a pocket of his black robes. He stood up to leave and only then turned to face Granger. 

She looked chagrined, as she should, and held the book to him. She visibly tried to regain some of her defiance, squaring her shoulders and raising her chin. “It was in the Ministry’s custody until now. I was simply doing my job.”

He raised an eyebrow at that; she was a lousy liar. He looked down at the book and grabbed it. 

That was when he saw it.

He held the book without claiming it, staring astonished at the hand holding its other end – more specifically at the thumb over the cover. There it was! She was wearing it! He schooled his features in time, or so he hoped, and finally took hold of the book, making her release it. Severus looked from her hand to her face, frowning. Before he could act or say anything, she nodded and left, taking his most valuable possession with her. 

_Damn!_

The only belonging he’d lost during the war that he actually cared about was the ring currently adorning Granger’s hand. 

“Are you feeling well, sir?”

Potter’s question brought him back from his contemplations. Fate was mocking him again. With Potter and all the other Aurors there… he could do nothing about it. 

“Never better,” he answered. “Is that all?”

“Yes, those were the last of your possessions in our custody.”

Severus strode out without another glance back before he did something he would regret, and he’d been very careful not to since the war had ended. The ring was not lost, at least not from the world, which was somehow a relief. It seemed lost for him at the moment, though. Potter had said they didn’t have any of his possessions with them, but Granger had the ring. _My ring!_ he added to himself. Severus wanted to go back there, pull it off of her hand and have it back. _How dare she use it? It’s not hers; it was never her right to wear it!_

He was in the Atrium and hadn’t even been aware of that, such was his fury. A couple of witches looked terrified at the sight of him, and he stopped – not because of their expressions of horror, but because he didn’t know how his wand had slipped into his hand. He slid it back inside his sleeve and started out again. As soon as he could, he Apparated to Hogsmeade.

~o0oOo0o~

Severus opened his eyes to the sight of the Shrieking Shack instead of the gates to the school. He closed his eyes again with a sigh; it seemed that the hours, days he’d spent looking for his then lost ring had affected him when he’d concentrated on his destination. He could Apparate to the gates of Hogwarts then, but he decided to walk. He needed the time to cool down and decide what to do now that he’d finally found the ring.

He reached the front doors of the castle without a single usable idea on how to claim the ring as his. In fact, there was a way, but he wasn’t going to humiliate himself unnecessarily. He had to make Granger surrender the ring to him of her own free will. How? He would have to figure out how. 

Severus went straight to his quarters, even though he was supposed to be in his office until dinner. Considering that no student was insane enough to look for him outside class, anyway, and that the other professors could find their way through the dungeons if they needed him, Severus thought it safe to miss the stupid office hour. Safer, in fact; he needed a warded place where he could expend his frustration in peace. 

Several items blasted and repaired, much pacing, and many frustrated words later, Severus was ready to admit defeat. He had come up with an idea that didn’t involve much humiliation, but would cost him some time. Precious time, if anyone asked him. He needed that ring. 

With a sigh, he sat by his desk and grabbed a piece of parchment, spreading it open across his blotter. He took a pointy quill and started to write. On the third try, he had a letter ready to be sent. Before his courage could abandon him, he went to the Owlery and sent the letter.

Now, all he could do was wait.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> **Coming next...** Severus' plan is revealed on his first letter to Hermione.


	2. Motives

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Severus' plan is revealed on his first letter to Hermione.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

>  **Disclaimer:** It's not mine. It's all J. K. Rowling's.
> 
> My eternal gratitude to Annie Talbot and Machshefa for beta-reading this chapter. *hugs*

The Muggle alarm woke Hermione up in the best of her sleep. She groaned and pressed the snooze button; another five minutes was all she needed. Of course, once awakened, there was no hope of getting back to sleep, but she could always slug in bed until the alarm went off again.

She would need the extra minutes of rest. Today she would be leaving for France to begin her tour of experience exchange with other Law Enforcement teams in Europe. She knew they would be expecting the great Harry Potter to arrive with her, and there would be some stress when his bookworm friend arrived alone instead. 

Hermione knew she was the best Auror for the job, and if not the best, at least a better choice than Harry. It was not that Harry wasn’t a good Auror – or a great one, even. It was just that he wasn’t all that much for the techniques, or action analysis. He was more of a damn good fighter, and that was what had carried him throughout his war against Voldemort – that and a gigantic dose of motherly love.

Hermione, on the other hand, knew all the laws, all the techniques for approaching, every charm or spell procedure used for each and every occasion, and most importantly, Hermione knew how to learn and teach. She was certain that when she got back from this excursion, she would be able to transmit her new knowledge to her fellow Aurors and make Britain’s Law Enforcement even more prepared to fight the evils of the magical world.

Reason enough to get out of the bed when the alarm went off again.

Her trunk was ready, Ginny had Crookshanks and would keep him until she was back, and the charms to water her pots of herbs were in place. Hermione had time for a quick shower and a fairly nice breakfast while skimming the _Daily Prophet_ before she left. She was on the second part of her morning ritual when she got a most unexpected owl.

_**Miss Granger,** _

_**In our brief encounter at the Ministry, I noticed you wearing a magical artifact of great Dark power. I don’t think you know how malignant it is, or you wouldn’t be wearing the ring at all.** _

_Ring?_ Hermione looked at the ring adorning her thumb and frowned before continuing to read… 

_**I don’t expect you to know of it, for although you’ve always been an annoying bookworm and have been studying the Dark Arts as of late, this ring is only mentioned in a very ancient text that I’ve only seen in the possession of the Dark Lord.** _

_**I don’t know where you found it, but I must advise you to stop wearing it immediately and send it to me for study as soon as possible.** _

Hermione looked at the ring again. This time she slipped it off of her finger. 

_**Don’t be a Gryffindor about the matter.** _

_**Severus Snape** _

The Gryffindor comment almost made her put the ring back on. Why did Snape have to be so infuriating about House affiliation? Then Hermione remembered who she was accusing of being infuriating and rolled her eyes; infuriating was nothing less than a definition of the man. 

Yet, he had gone out of his way to warn her that there was something Dark about a ring she had been wearing.

Hermione frowned again at the silver ring, looking attentively into its emerald green encrusted heart as if the stones would give away their evilness after all this time of seemingly harmless beauty.

She would run late if she continued to contemplate it now, so Hermione folded Snape’s missive and went to a drawer in her bedroom where she had last seen a small coin bag not long ago. She couldn’t wear the ring after such a warning from someone she knew to be an expert on the field of Dark Magic, but she wouldn’t leave it behind, either. Hermione found the bag, put the ring in it, and slipped it inside a pocket of her robes; moments later, the letter followed.

She would think about it later. Now she had a Portkey to catch.

~o0oOo0o~

It’d been three days since her arrival in France, and Hermione finally had an afternoon for herself. She’d been received with more enthusiasm than she’d expected. It seemed that Auror Alain Molyneux had made an effort to learn more about her beforehand and was proving to be a nice, if demanding, host. Not even at meals had she had time alone. There hadn’t been a lunch or a dinner that she hadn’t spent with “Oficiales”, M. Molyneux’s operational team members, or a curious friend or two of the man. But she had to admit that they were mostly good company, and the food was exquisite.

Of course, all this meant she hadn’t had time to examine the ring yet. Well, at least not to the extent she had hoped. She’d run some elementary tests on it, but a negative result could prove nothing conclusive if what Snape had mentioned in his letter was true. An artifact with barely a reference, and only in an obscure book, couldn’t be that easily detected.

What intrigued Hermione the most, though, wasn’t the fact that she hadn’t heard about this ring and its magical properties before, or even that she couldn’t detect anything unusual about it now, but how she hadn’t felt any different all this time she’d been wearing it. Again, if Snape was right and this ring was all the danger he had professed, shouldn’t she be dead or gravely injured by now? 

Snape’s advice to remove the ring immediately suggested as much. Hermione couldn’t remember him ever being so adamant about something if he hadn’t a solid motive to support it. That was why she wasn’t wearing the ring any more. He must have had a good reason to tell her all of that, but was it good enough to make her send the ring to him as he’d asked? Snape might have his reasons, but he’d been wrong before. He’d been wrong about Sirius, wrong about Voldemort….

That line of thought sent Hermione back to the day she’d found the infamous ring. The day after Snape had died before her very wide eyes only to show up very much alive afterwards. That day she had gone back to the Shrieking Shack as soon as possible as part of the team designed to recover Snape’s body for a subsequent respectful funeral. Of course, there hadn’t been a body there, only blood, dust, a foul smell and the ring. 

Maybe it had been in Voldemort’s possession, and Snape had the entire basis for his urgency in dealing with it right there. Voldemort’s ring….

Hermione shuddered while staring at the up-to-now inoffensive piece of jewelry. After a long time contemplating her options, Hermione decided what course of action she would take. Parchment and quill in hand, she worded an answer to Professor Snape’s missive.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> **Coming next...** Severus' mood darkens with Hermione's answer.


	3. Impatience

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Severus' mood darkens with Hermione's answer.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

>  **Disclaimer:** It's not mine, it's all J. K. Rowling's.
> 
> Annie Talbot and Machshefa are THE beta-readers! *hugs*

Four days and no sign of Miss Granger. What could be so damn difficult about taking a ring that didn’t belong to her off of her undeserving finger and sending it back to him, its rightful owner? There was nothing complicated about that, and Hermione Granger hadn’t been a moron in any case to not have understood as much. 

Maybe she’d addled her brain in one of her Auror missions and was unable to follow simple, straightforward instructions such as “take the thing off, send it through.” Maybe the know-it-all was trying to find what was wrong with the perfectly safe ring. Even so, three days was too many.

He’d decided when he’d optioned for this plan that he would wait at least a week before going after her. Now that he knew where the ring was, this waiting tactic was proving to be torture. He wanted his ring back, and he wanted it now. Every time the image of it adorning Granger’s finger came back into the forefront of his mind, he felt like throwing caution out the window and going to take what was his, consequences be damned.

Then the morning post arrived and with it, a letter for him.

_**Dear Professor Snape,** _

_**Thank you for warning me about the ring. I would never have realized it was cursed in any way if you hadn’t alerted me. I have stopped wearing it and will be observant of any changes in myself. I’m now very interested in the study we’ll be running on it.** _

_Blah, blah, blah. As if I care._ He kept reading…

_**Unfortunately, we won’t get to start until I’m back in Britain. Unless you have any tests in mind that I can run while we wait, I suggest you try to find the book you mentioned in your letter; it might be essential for our success. What do you know about the ring so far?** _

_Back in Britain? She left the country?_ Severus was outraged by the news. _Where did this woman take my ring?_ There was more in the letter…

_**Again, thank you for warning me. I’m touched by your interest in my well-being. We’re not exactly friends, and we haven’t seen each other in a long time, what makes the gesture even more grand. How have you been, by the way?** _

_**Appreciatively,  
Hermione Granger** _

So many words in her letter and he had nothing! Not even her location; his ring’s location! Leave it to Granger to write words and more useless words on what was not requested.

He felt like scaring the first-years by throwing his toast at them, but thought better of it. He crushed the roasted bread instead, maintaining a calm demeanor to those who watched from below, but Minerva could see the subtle change.

“Something the matter, Severus?”

“The toast is too dry,” he answered.

“Maybe something in your correspondence has dried it.”

“Maybe I’ll stop coming for breakfast in the Great Hall,” he countered, pushing himself away from the table and rising to leave.

He was pushing the chair back into position when Minerva, eyes on her plate, said, “The house-elves’ toast and the owls will find you here or there.”

Severus ignored the comment, striding out of the Great Hall. Minerva was right, of course, but what she didn’t know was that he would have been glad to have owls visiting him if they were to bring his ring back. He quickly arrived in his office, closing the door behind him and sitting behind his desk. He held his head in his hands, resting his elbows on the desktop for support. He had to control himself.

Since he’d woken up alive after the Battle of Hogwarts, it was the absence of his token that had caused him the greatest distress. It was as if losing it had shattered what he had left of his world, necrosing his heart. Severus had believed that he had nothing else to lose, but he was wrong. It was irrational, he knew; a ring couldn’t cause such heavy feelings of loss. 

He took a deep breath, then another, calming his heart and controlling his emotions. All would be back to normal after he had his ring back. More deep breaths and he was finally ready to think like the rational man he was. He could play Granger’s game. He could be patient, as he’d been all his life, and sooner than later he would have his ring and his life back.

~o0oOo0o~

The next morning found Severus Snape going to the Owlery with a letter in hand. He watched with unreadable eyes as the owl took it and only left after he couldn’t see it anymore. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> **Coming next...** Snape's letter has an unexpected effect.


	4. Questions

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Snape's letter has an unexpected effect.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

>  **Disclaimer:** It's not mine, it's all J. K. Rowling's.
> 
> Annie Talbot and Machshefa are the lovely ladies who beta-read this fic! *hugs*

Hermione had had a very tiring day in the company of Auror Molyneux, who seemed to be much less hospitable during field trips than he’d been while going through some theories indoors. Hermione had a headache. Gods, the man could yell!

She took her boots off and flexed her sore toes. Maybe she should indulge in a scented bath tonight, soak her aching body and simply relax. There was so much Paris could offer, and she hadn’t had the opportunity to enjoy anything yet. She was glad it was the weekend. 

She contemplated eating before her bath, but decided she’d enjoy the meal better when clean and relaxed. She stood from the armchair, passed by its twin and the warm hearth that faced them, unconcerned by the boots she left behind. She passed by the small table, where she left her bag, and kept walking up to where the bed was, near the window. It was all one big room; bigger than a usual hotel room would be, but also cozier. 

She took her robes off and went to retrieve the book she’d been reading from the nightstand. A letter rested on top of it. She tore it open.

_**Miss Granger,** _

_**I don’t think you understand the gravity of the situation. I need you to send the ring right away. You’ve been exposed to it for an extended amount of time; you’re hardly in a position to make such a decision as to keep it until you’re back in Britain, much less to join in the investigations.** _

_**Send me the ring.** _

_**I specifically asked you not to be a Gryffindor on the matter, but I think you’re still too childish to understand why I did so.** _

_**Severus Snape** _

_Childish? He’s the one still attached to stupid House prejudices!_

Snape, being his old insufferable self, was not what she needed to add into her day. If he thought she was going to send the ring after such a rude request, he was very wrong. Who did he think he was? Her time as his pupil was over; she didn’t owe him obedience or any courtesy he didn’t offer her himself. 

Hermione threw the letter over her robes on the bed, grabbed her book, and entered the bathroom with purpose. That letter had been the last drop to fall into her already full goblet; she would ignore Molyneux and Snape and have her relaxing bath. Oh yes, she would.

~o0oOo0o~

Paris was wonderful at any time of the year – that was Hermione’s conclusion. She’d been sightseeing all morning and had stopped by a really nice café to enjoy lunch. Gone was the stress from work and Auror Molyneux from the day before. She couldn’t say the same about Snape, though.

The missive that had irritated her so much last night was still occupying her mind today, especially now that she was simply watching the passers-by. What had irritated her, now intrigued her. It was a flaw of her character, or so Ron always said, that she would always try to find a reason behind Severus Snape’s obnoxious behavior. Upon analyzing his words with less anger, she had realized something unusual about them: they were almost pleading. 

Severus Snape did not plead, just as he never apologized or admitted he was wrong. Everyone knew that. Then, why was he doing so now? Did he want the ring that badly? If so, why? Somehow, Hermione doubted it was with her best interests at heart; that violated another of the man’s guiding principles: Severus Snape was not kind.

Very intriguing….

The ring was also very intriguing in itself. It was a Claddagh Ring, and like every one of its kind, its design showed hands holding a central heart with a crown on it. The heart on this specific ring was encrusted with three green stones that Hermione never thought of confirming that they were emeralds. She wore it because it was beautiful and not for its value. 

Then again, maybe she did wear it for its value, only not its material one, but rather its sentimental one. She’d found it in the Shrieking Shack after the Battle of Hogwarts. She’d been there to retrieve the body of her ex-professor, the very same man she’d seen die a few hours before, and had found no body there, only that ring.

Maybe wearing the ring had been a sign of respect for all those who died during that battle. Maybe it was simply to remind her that the unexpected could happen, and that it didn’t have to always be bad.

Those were days she’d left behind, mostly. Snape, with this whole ring matter, was sucking her back there and then; not the company she’d choose. 

Hermione finished her lunch and decided to visit the Louvre. She’d been there before, but would never get tired of the place. Later she would find herself writing an answer to Snape, but deciding not to send it. 

Sunday morning, though, an owl could be seen flying out the window of her hotel room, taking with it a parchment envelope.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> **Coming next…** Snape is disturbed by Hermione’s answer.


	5. Ignorance

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Snape is disturbed by Hermione’s answer.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

>  **Disclaimer:** It's not mine, it's all J. K. Rowling's.
> 
> Annie Talbot and Machshefa are the lovely ladies who beta-read this fic! *hugs*

Sunday was almost over, and there was no way his mood would improve. Severus Snape hadn’t had such a bad weekend since his last one in Azkaban some years ago. It had been a miserable weekend, a harbinger of an even more miserable week.

In fact, there was something that could make it all better for Severus: the arrival of the ring. Unlikely to happen, if you asked him, for as far from Britain as Granger could be, she would have had enough time to read his letter and give his ring to the returning owl. Now it was already Sunday evening, the school owl he’d used had been back since the first hours of Saturday, and there was no sign of an answer. 

Why was this torturing him so? It was just a ring, a woman’s ring. It wasn’t even that valuable; its stones weren’t emeralds, its metal was a cheap kind of white gold. Then why couldn’t Granger send him the damn thing? It was just a ring!

 _Why am I torturing myself about it, then?_

Severus growled in frustration. He was ready to concede defeat and let his head fall on the pillow to sleep the night away when an owl flew through the enchanted hole near the ceiling of his living room. He stood from the bed with renewed energy to meet the bird.

His first disappointment was the absence of the ring; the second…

_**Professor Snape,** _

_**I shouldn’t be answering you at all. The reason for this letter is very simple: I’m curious.**_

This made an eyebrow shoot to his hairline. He kept reading…

_**You see me wearing a ring I happen to have found the day Voldemort died. Your interest is obviously piqued. You write to me saying the ring is cursed and a danger, which obviously it is not. You insist that I send it to you at any cost.** _

_**Now, why would you do that? I understand you know the ring and want it, but why? You know, explaining things might get you what you want faster than manipulation, rude words and lies ever would.** _

Severus was looking in shock at the parchment he held, and there was more…

_**Keep that in mind when you word your reply – if you intend on replying at all – and stop being a Slytherin jerk.** _

_**Hermione Granger** _

Severus stared. The chit had no respect at all! 

_Slytherin jerk?_

His shock was quickly wearing off and anger was seeping in just as quickly, making him squash the letter in a ball of parchment. He kept crushing the offending letter while he struggled with himself. He wanted to strangle Granger for her impertinence, but most of all for not sending him his ring, and that in itself was more irritating than anything else he was feeling.

He sank to the couch in front of the hearth and dropped his head into his hands, then growled when the damned letter got on the way of his fingers and his lank hair. He flung the offending ball of parchment away and pulled at his hair with gusto. This ring had been his solace since the day he’d realized he couldn’t ignore the feelings that his young heart had nourished innocently and unrelentingly. Back then and during the darkest years of his life, it’d been his only company, his only reminder that there was some purity in his soul. A ring, a tiny little ring, for Merlin’s sake! How could it rule his life so?

It was beyond irritating. It was insane!

He stood abruptly and strode into his bedroom. Severus simply threw his body onto the mattress, pulling the covers from underneath himself in irritation. He was going to sleep, and when he woke up, he’d have forgotten about Granger and the damn ring. 

Using all the techniques he knew for clearing his mind, Severus slept.

For three days his internal struggle continued. There were times when he ignored his anguish and concentrated on his most tedious chores, there were other times when he sat in his office or classroom gazing into space in contemplation, and there were times in the privacy of his chambers that he gave way to his misery and thought about ways to recover his precious ring.

Those were the times he indulged in preparing plans to get what he wanted and, at the same time, tried to convince himself it was not for his need of the ring, but for his need to get what was his, that it had nothing to do with his past feelings, but pride and justice. 

On the following Thursday, he still didn’t have any brilliant ideas for a plan of action. He’d been through many and all possibilities in his mind more than once; he’d even contemplated telling the truth as an option, which was quickly discarded. Now he was going in circles, back and back again to the same stupid ideas, not even bothering to hide from himself that he needed the ring at all costs.

This could mean only one thing: he would have to choose the least dense of his ideas and write an answer to Granger. Severus was so frustrated with the situation that he broke his quill after writing two paragraphs in the answer, having to waste his good one on that piece of crap. 

Stupid situation. 

But if asking wasn’t getting the desired effect, then he would have to invest more heavily. It was preposterous, but he was willing to negotiate.

He didn’t care what time it was, all Severus wanted was get this over with. He went to the Owlery, and when he got there, the first rays of light were illuminating the horizon. He didn’t seem to notice the beauty of the view while he watched the owl take flight with his letter attached to its claw.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> **Coming next…** Hermione is intrigued by Snape’s offer.


	6. Bargain

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Hermione is intrigued by Snape’s offer.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

>  **Disclaimer:** It's not mine, it's all J. K. Rowling's.
> 
> Annie Talbot and Machshefa are the lovely ladies who beta-read this fic! *hugs*

Hermione had taken the ring with her when she left for work the Monday after sending her response to Snape. She was very conscious that she was disobeying Snape by doing so, but she was an adult now and Snape was blatantly lying to her, wasn’t he? Besides, she wasn’t wearing it, just keeping it close by.

Hermione wanted to inspect it more closely, run some lengthy tests, and maybe even ask for opinions, since she would be visiting the French Division for Defense Studies today.

That had been before actually meeting the wizards and witches who worked there. How they could perform any serious studies in such a messy department was beyond Hermione! Then again, maybe the individual talent of some of their researchers compensated for the lack of organization. 

Francis Bonnet was a good example. Hermione had even contemplated showing him the ring, but decided not to in the end. She’d asked some purposeful questions, though. He was very intelligent and knew a great deal about casting curses out of people and objects. What had held Hermione back was his young age; he couldn’t be much older than she was and he reminded her too much of Harry. 

She had more opportunities to exchange ideas and discuss theories with the researchers during the following days. She had at least a period of her day to spend discussing defense studies. It was a welcome break from the demanding Molyneux. She’d always been more inclined to the intelligence branch of the Law Enforcement, and Molyneux was all about physical drills and hex exchanges.

She’d had little time to think about Snape or the ring while she worked, but at night, when she was finally alone in her hotel room, her mind would drift that way. It had been what, four days since she’d sent the last letter? Maybe Snape had actually given up and had chosen another victim for his spurts of bad temper.

Maybe not. 

Thursday evening Hermione found a letter awaiting her on the nightstand. Curious, Hermione opened it.

_**Miss Granger,** _

_**Irritating or insulting me will get you nowhere. Doubting me, on the other hand, can be alarmingly more dangerous. Presuming the ring is not acting on you doesn’t mean it’s not evil.** _

_**You want to know why I need you to send the ring to me, and although I don’t know why I bother to answer, I’ll just say that I’m a researcher when I don’t have to deal with moronic students, and the Dark Arts is one of my fields of expertise.** _

_**I would be willing to offer you an amount of Galleons for it or any other form of payment you might propose.** _

_**And before you ask, no, you can’t join in the research.** _

_**Severus Snape  
Defense Against the Dark Arts Master** _

_He wants to buy the ring?_ Hermione frowned, confused. This whole story got more and more confusing with every letter. It seemed that the more information she had, the more she needed.

Maybe he was just playing mind games with her. His first words were pretty indicative of it. He insisted on saying that the ring was dangerous, but unless she had proof of its Darkness, the ring was innocent. Because if it wasn’t….

Hermione frowned again, then sighed. She liked the ring because it was something beautiful she’d found in the chaos of those sad days. She liked it because it was proof that things would be better from then on, that she had something to remind her that love had won.

She wanted Snape to be wrong. She wanted to keep the ring, her trophy for surviving that sad day. She wanted its beauty to be exactly what she had always believed it to be: innocent, simple. Snape was ruining it!

Snape….

What was wrong with him? Was he really opening negotiations for the ring? This was…. She didn’t know what to think!

But she knew he was wrong. The ring was innocent, even if its simplicity was being spoilt by this absurd situation. How could Snape confuse her so? He’d been tying knots in her mind since she met him as his student. Granted, he was the most complicated man she had ever known, but should he be complicated about _everything_?

She was tired of this puzzle, and she would let him know exactly that. Hermione took a piece of parchment, a quill and ink from her satchel and started wording an answer. When she finished, she sealed it in an envelope and went down into the hotel lobby to ask for an owl. The sooner she solved this, the sooner she would be able to concentrate on matters that were, in fact, important and leave the ring to be what it was: a ring.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> **Coming next…** Snape is offended by Hermione’s feelings.


	7. Feelings

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Snape is offended by Hermione’s feelings.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

>  **Disclaimer:** It's not mine, it's all J. K. Rowling's.
> 
> Annie Talbot and Machshefa are the lovely ladies who beta-read this fic! *hugs*

It was Friday morning and Severus had decided to go up to the Great Hall for breakfast. If he’d learned something about Hermione Granger in the past week it was that she didn’t answer her correspondence right away, so there was only a minimal chance that his mood would reach worse levels than socially tolerable. This way he could play Minerva’s game without much risk of giving her more ammunition for her annoying, unexpected attacks.

He entered the hall, glaring at whoever dared to look his way while he walked to the Head Table. The fact that he was attending the morning meal didn’t mean his mood was sociable, only barely. He took his seat next to the Headmistress and waited for the inevitable. He didn’t have to wait long.

“Good morning, Severus. It’s always nice seeing you in the Great Hall so early in the day. Have you forgiven the house-elves, then?”

He poured some coffee for himself and ignored the toast he usually had with it. He also ignored the Headmistress, but this didn’t seem to discourage her.

“I assure you that the toast is not overly dry this morning,” she continued.

Owls invaded the hall from all sides at that moment. A letter fell on his plate.

“Unless your correspondence is still cursed to dry them,” Minerva added.

Severus gave her a warning side glance before reaching for the letter. It was an answer from Granger. He felt Minerva’s eyes on him, expectant. He turned to her, holding the letter and arching an eyebrow at her.

She had the audacity to chuckle before going back to her own business, in this case, her breakfast.

Severus refrained from opening the letter, just to prove he still had some control over this situation, or so he told himself. But the absence of the ring in the package was palpable.

Not much later, in the relative privacy of his office, his control slipped, as evidenced by his tearing the envelope open impatiently.

_**Dear Professor Snape,** _

_**You insist on being rude, so I’ll continue to be blunt. Until you disclose your motives, I’ll deny you the ring. If you say it is evil, then prove it. Otherwise, I won’t believe you.** _

_**You have my conditions for cooperation.** _

_Cynical bitch! As if she had any right to demand anything._ Severus proceeded to whatever nonsense she still had to say.

_**Notice that I’m not being petty about this; you’re the one making my decision difficult. Have you ever considered that I might be attached to this ring? Have you even considered the possibility that I might be worried about its destiny? I don’t think you have, therefore you should.** _

_**People have feelings. Don’t disrespect mine just because you can’t grasp the concept.** _

_**Hermione Granger** _

His frown was deeper than ever. Who was she to claim a sentimental attachment to the ring? Severus was not happy. Severus was very much annoyed, actually. It was disrespectful and intrusive and… and… rude, even by his standards! 

The ring was precious to _him_. If it had to be precious to someone else, it had to be someone of his choice, and not some interfering… thief!

She was ruining everything. Hermione bloody Granger was corrupting his ring. 

Severus discarded the letter on the desk and started to walk. He paced, trying to make the ache on his chest go away. It felt like going back to Grimmauld Place and finding Lily’s letter all over again. 

_Feelings? What does she know about feelings? Nothing!_

Severus stopped in front of a shelf and ran a long finger around the contours of the worked glass of an elegant jar. It contained a deep red liquid that was visible through its green walls. He traced and retraced the ornament, calming himself. He closed his eyes and sighed. 

“Damn.”

He was still angry with the girl’s petulance, but he had to keep his head as far from his tiny heart as possible, or it would be devastating. Severus didn’t have the luxury of losing his mind now, much as he would have liked to surrender to the pain. 

Why had he survived again? 

_Don’t go there, you fool_ … he cautioned his thoughts.

It was almost time for the morning classes, so he simply headed for the door and left for the classroom, leaving but not forgetting the letter on his desk.

~o0oOo0o~

After spending the weekend trying to rationalize his reaction to Granger’s letter, Severus was still annoyed by her words. He couldn’t understand how she could claim his ring meant something to her if it was simply an object she’d found on the floor of a dirty room.

Severus needed to solve this impasse, take the ring from her as soon as possible. 

He penned an answer and sent it. His patience was reaching its end, and he didn’t care if it showed in his letter; he never cared.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> **Coming next…** Hermione is offended by Snape’s disregard.


	8. Mystery

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Hermione is offended by Snape’s disregard.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

>  **Disclaimer:** It's not mine, it's all J. K. Rowling's.
> 
> Annie Talbot and Machshefa are the lovely ladies who beta-read this fic! *hugs*

Hermione had spent a very peaceful weekend. Actually, it had been too peaceful. She’d gone shopping in wizarding and Muggle Paris, had visited one of the most wonderful libraries in Europe, but had done all of that alone. She missed her friends, her colleagues... she even missed Snape! With nothing else to think about, the mystery of the ring was consuming her overactive brain. 

Hermione wanted Snape to answer her questions. Why was he avoiding them? What could he be hiding from her? She’d discarded all dark curses by now. If the ring was indeed cursed, he would have told her what the curse was, if only to scare her enough to send it to him. So, if it was simply a Claddagh Ring, what did he want with it?

Try as she might, Hermione couldn’t place Snape and a ring such as that in the same situation. If he wasn’t Snape, though, she would think he’d been the owner of this ring. Claddagh Rings were gifted as a sign of friendship and love. She knew Snape had loved Harry’s mother, but they had parted when they were still at school and Lily had never responded to his affections. Or had she? Harry said she hadn’t, so Hermione would take it for granted.

But if the ring wasn’t Snape’s, then it could only have been Voldemort’s.

Hermione always shuddered at this thought, but she forced herself to analyze the possibility. If the Claddagh Ring had been Voldemort’s, what could Snape possibly want with it? Hermione knew he’d been working all along to bring down the evil wizard, so it wasn’t a need for a memorabilia of the sort Bellatrix would strive for. Then maybe it was cursed and he’d been telling the truth all along.

Why couldn’t he simply tell her? It was frustrating.

Hermione fell asleep with thoughts of the ring and Snape, and woke up sweating from a nightmare of the day she’d watched him die. It hadn’t been the first time she’d dreamed of it, but she’d gone without this specific nightmare for a long while, maybe longer than a year.

She cursed Snape for messing with her dreams, and got ready for the day of work. This week she would spend with the Aurors-in-training to observe how they were prepared to fight and to add to their training with techniques they might not be familiar with.

She went to the hotel restaurant to eat breakfast, and with her meal, the waiter brought a letter. She was so immersed in the whole mystery that she couldn’t wait until after she’d had her meal to open it.

_**Miss Granger,** _

_**What can you possibly feel for a piece of cheap metal that could be more meaningful for you than safety and science? It’s not even a gift from your moron friends Potter and Weasley. It’s only junk you found in an abandoned house, a site of war. This would be reason enough to believe it’s cursed. To think that I really believed you had more brains than the rest of them.** _

_**Name your price and leave out the morality lessons. Save them for those who appreciate your insight.** _

_**Severus Snape** _

Hermione harrumphed. As if she would spend her time and strength trying to teach the ruder man she knew some good grace. Snape was entirely too insufferable a man.

But this last attack would have an answer to match. Hermione folded the letter with ill grace and shoved it into her satchel. She ate her now cold breakfast without care for what she was putting into her mouth. In her mind, she cursed Snape for questioning her attachment to the ring. If she didn’t want to part with it, she had her reasons, no matter what he believed. But worse than doubting her words and feelings, for she would always expect that of Snape, he was ignoring her questions.

She was starting to feel sick to her stomach just remembering the man. She pushed the plate aside and left the small table. Before going to the Apparition point, though, she went back up her hotel room and grabbed the ring. Today she would be wearing it.

Call it petulance, but Snape had asked for it. Even if he couldn’t see her defying him, it felt good; she felt good.

Later, worn out from the day’s exercise, Hermione, calmer than she’d been in the morning, reread Snape’s letter more carefully before preparing her answer. There were some details that had escaped her attention in the heat of her indignation, but now intrigued her to no end. 

If he thought he could get away with avoiding her questions, he was much mistaken.

Before bed that Monday, Hermione sent her letter through a rented owl. It would be the last one she would be sending to Snape if he chose to ignore her again.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> **Coming next…** Snape makes a risky decision after a conversation about toast.


	9. Dignity

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Snape makes a risky decision after a conversation about toast.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

>  **Disclaimer:** It's not mine, it's all J. K. Rowling's.
> 
> Annie Talbot and Machshefa are the lovely ladies who beta-read this fic! *hugs*

Severus was late for breakfast, therefore he wasn’t going. He’d planned to go, but he hadn’t had a good night of sleep, and he was blaming Granger for that. 

He’d dreamed of Lily, of her wedding, as he’d dreamed before. It was not the worst of the nightmares, but it wasn’t a sweet dream, either. She was beautiful in her wedding dress, just the way he remembered from the real thing, but unlike most of his dreams of that day, he hadn’t taken Potter’s place as the groom. Severus observed from the bushes, as he’d done that day. He watched the progress of the ceremony as still as the trunk of the tree he used for hiding. All was as he’d remembered until the rings were exchanged, and for some reason only dreams can explain, his dream-self had felt alarmed that it wasn’t his Claddagh Ring Potter was sliding up Lily’s finger.

Then Granger was standing by his side, in plain view of those attending the ceremony – he remembered feeling afraid that someone would catch them spying, which added to how ridiculous this dream had been – and lifted the hand adorned by his ring so he could see it there. He couldn’t move in his dream, couldn’t take her hand in his and correct what seemed to be a mistake of wondrous proportions.

He’d awaken with this feeling of desperation, wrongness, his chest compressed and tight. He hadn’t been able to sleep afterwards, and he’d tried. After lying awake for most of the night, slumber took over in the first hours of the morning.

Now Severus was late, so he ordered his breakfast to be served in his quarters. It was almost instantaneous; a house-elf was arranging his small table with what he’d asked, and as quickly as the house-elf had come, it was gone. Good, he didn’t feel like being pampered this morning.

He was finishing the quick meal when the owl arrived with a letter for him.

_**Dear Professor Snape,** _

_**You’re definitely underestimating me, as you always did. You won’t get what you want by avoiding my questions.**_

Severus rolled his eyes. _Gryffindors…._

_**I told you in my last letter that I want to know what’s so important about this “piece of cheap metal”, this “junk”, as you put it. Don’t think I’ll send the ring to you just because you have no sense of value and think it means nothing to me.** _

This was wrong on so many ways…. _It was supposed to be junk to you, Granger!_

 _ **In fact, the price has just risen. In addition to knowing why you want the ring (the truth, if you please), I also want to know how you discovered where I found it. I never said anything about any abandoned house in a site of war. All I said was that I found the ring on the day of the Battle of Hogwarts, and not even you, with all your misguided sense of worth, can consider the castle an “abandoned house”.**_

Severus cursed his inattention and her stupid questions. There was more…

_**Although, since you’ve mentioned abandoned houses and we’re negotiating, I’d like to know how you survived the events in the Shrieking Shack. Consider this a bonus for enduring all your niceties and tact during our continued communication.** _

_**Start talking, Snape, and leave the sarcasm for those who appreciate it.** _

_**Hermione Granger** _

_Demanding chit! She wants to invade my privacy, doesn’t she? The girl has no limits!_

At the same time Severus had that reflex of indignation, he knew he’d lost a battle, a big one. She would not be dissuaded; he would have to give something or she would just keep refusing him the ring. 

_Stubborn Gryffindors! Don’t they ever give up?_

Severus had to admit that they didn’t, so he sighed. Maybe a battle had been lost, but never the war, and if there was something Severus knew about, it was how to fight a war. 

Severus left his quarters, taking the letter with him. He didn’t have to answer right away, and he intended to word his letter very carefully. Maybe he wouldn’t have to reveal much of anything after all.

~o0oOo0o~

Tired of a whole day and night spent in contemplation of his options, at the first light of the day, Severus had no other option but write to Miss Granger. He felt drained, pathetic and he hated himself for being weak. He stared at the parchment waiting to be sent and hated it. The words there… he hated them. Severus hated everything about this situation.

After finding the Headmistress in the corridor the day before, he had to make an appearance at breakfast.

He hated breakfast in the Great Hall.

But if he didn’t go, Minerva would come to him, Severus knew. That would be much worse than any other choice available at the moment. 

He took the letter and walked to the Great Hall. He could send his damnation later. If he was going down, he could very much enjoy his last meal as a man with dignity first, or as much dignity a man can maintain when surrounded by nosy women.

“Good morning, Severus!”

 _Why the enthusiasm?_ Severus asked himself. He chose to ignore the greeting and see if Minerva got the hint and left him be.

“Poppy was wondering if you were perhaps sick, but I assured her you had developed some kind of intolerance to elf-made toast.”

_She won’t let go…._

“I’m glad you kept her from meddling with what was not any of her business,” he answered with a bow of mock gratitude.

He settled in for the meal trying to ignore all the others around him. He went for a slice of toast and started buttering it. He was just short of taking a bite when he got annoyed and turned to look at Minerva, lowering the toast to glare with more effect.

She lifted an eyebrow, not even trying to disguise that she’d been observing him since he’d taken the toast.

“Does this mean the toast isn’t a problem anymore?” she dared to ask.

“This means you can be as annoying as your predecessor.” 

Severus bit his toast and helped himself of coffee. He took a sip followed by another bite of toast. It seemed the conversation was blessedly over.

“Severus.” 

He was wrong. 

“I haven’t realized until now that you were keeping score.”

What was she on about? He looked at her and took another sip of coffee. “Amuse me,” he settled his cup to hear her explanation.

“You do remember who my predecessor was, right? If I knew I was entering a competition….” She was smiling behind her cup. Not a good sign. 

Then he understood why, but she was already stating the obvious for him. 

“Beating you in sarcasm will be a big challenge.”

He rolled his eyes, but only because that would be the expected reaction. This whole conversation made him see his predicament in another light, a darker light of times he would have died to forget. His distressing history haunted him without ceasing. Any doubt he could have of sending the letter in his pocket dissolved right there with the realization that he needed the few good memories he had. 

He needed the ring more than he needed his dignity.

He finished the meal as quickly as possible and left in a flare of robes towards the Owlery.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> **Coming next…** Hermione can’t take any more of Snape’s Slytherin maneuvers.


	10. Frustration

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Hermione can’t take any more of Snape’s Slytherin maneuvers.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

>  **Disclaimer:** It's not mine, it's all J. K. Rowling's.
> 
> Annie Talbot and Machshefa are the lovely ladies who beta-read this fic! *hugs*

Hermione was disappointed when, among the letters she’d got that morning, there was none from Snape. She was really intrigued by the whole situation and looking forward to the answers to her questions. 

Maybe the lack of response was actually a good sign. If Snape had answered right away, it could mean he was discarding her questions as nonsense, and thus, undeserving of answers. This delay meant he was at least considering answering them. So, of one thing Hermione was sure: Snape would write a return letter. Especially after what she’d been thinking since yesterday. Could this ring be Snape’s?

The possibility had been playing in her mind. She didn’t remember him wearing it, but she’d never really paid attention to Snape’s hands before.

 _Liar…_ Her mind didn’t let her delude herself.

How could anyone who had taken Potions classes with the man not notice those hands? It wasn’t possible…. They were so elegant with those long fingers, executing precise motions….

Hermione shook herself to bring her mind back to the matter at, well, hand. There was a possibility that the ring could be his, and that changed everything. She had something Professor Severus Snape, the most unattainable wizard she knew, wanted, even begged for, in his own distorted way. Hermione was enjoying the power she had acquired over the infuriating man. 

Power over Severus Snape…. Tempting, of course, but also dangerous, Hermione knew. What to do with it? Should she use it at all? In a way, she was already making use of it, but very mildly. Severus had been manipulated all his life; did she want to be another one abusive of power over him? No, she didn’t. It wasn’t for pity – he’d chosen to be manipulated, chosen to have those masters, and paid for those choices – but a sense of responsibility kept her particularly careful, nonetheless.

She left the hotel to spend her day discussing potions, which worked to make Professor Snape even more present in her thoughts that day.

In the evening, a letter awaited for her in her room. She went eagerly to read it.

_**Miss Granger,** _

_**Your sarcasm is amateurish at best, please spare me from it. Your infantilism disgusts me, but if answer to your childish curiosity is your price, so be it.** _

Hermione smirked in triumph.

_**I know the previous owner of the ring. You’d be disgusted with the story, so I’ll jump to what I think your sensibility can take. The ring is indeed cursed, but I don’t have any intentions of destroying it, much the contrary. I want it safe and where I can monitor it.** _

_**I know where you found it because, again, I know who the previous owner is and I was there.** _

_**These are the questions I’m answering. You’re not entitled to a bonus.** _

_**Now, if I can have the ring.** _

_**Severus Snape** _

There was no feeling of triumph left by the time she’d reached the end of his words. _Frustrating_ was all Hermione could come up with to describe this letter. 

_How Slytherin does he think he can get before I’m fed up with this?_

Suddenly, Hermione felt stupid for even considering being cautious about using her newfound power over him. He didn’t seem to hesitate in treating her like a foolish little girl, so why should she care about him? 

Oh, if she wasn’t too far to Apparate into Hogsmeade…. Snape would be receiving her visit right away. She would go there and force him to tell the truth, explain what was really going on, even if she had to resort to using Veritaserum.

If he thought she would surrender the ring based on those stupid explanations, he actually didn’t know who he was dealing with.

In the heat of her indignation, Hermione penned her answer to Snape. She didn’t even wait for the next day to send it, preferring to do that before going to bed. After the letter was on its way, she was able to enjoy a good bath and sleep soundly all night.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> **Coming next…** Snape suffers with the implications on Hermione’s letter.


	11. Confirmation

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Snape suffers with the implications on Hermione’s letter.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

>  **Disclaimer:** It's not mine, it's all J. K. Rowling's.
> 
> Annie Talbot and Machshefa are the lovely ladies who beta-read this fic! *hugs*

Severus was somehow surprised when Granger’s answer to his last letter arrived with the morning mail. He was dreading this letter, especially if it didn’t contain the ring. It was too quick an answer, what could only mean that Granger was indeed too smart to be fooled and knew the ring was his.

With that in mind, as discretely as possible, he felt for anything that could pass for the ring inside the envelope, but found only smooth paper.

 _Damn!_

Conscious of the Headmistress observing him thinking he couldn’t notice, Severus schooled his expression to the usual blank countenance and decided to save this letter for later. If she’d figured it all out, he couldn’t trust himself not to throw his breakfast on the students, or so was his excuse.

He clutched the envelope in one hand and lifted his coffee to his mouth with the other, trying to act normally. He eased the cup back on the table and used the free hand to take the fork and eat a mouthful of scrambled eggs. He did that twice, then left the fork for the cup again. 

All very normal. All very controlled. All very him.

Except for the rough paper on his other hand and the unexpected weight on his heart. 

He let go of any pretence that his stomach was taking the meal with grace and pushed the plate away. _Stupid letter._

“Revolting against the house-elves’ cooking again?”

Severus groaned quietly.

“What will you eat if you start avoiding all they make, I wonder? Rosmerta’s food?” Minerva insisted.

“I’m not in the mood, Minerva.” He sighed.

“What are those letters, Severus?” Her voice hadn’t the playful tone of before.

Severus continued to glare at random students, refusing to answer.

“I’m not trying to be nosy, but I have to ask. You’ve not been yourself lately, and I’m starting to worry.”

He glanced her way out of the corner of his eye. “There’s nothing to worry about, Mum.”

She chuckled. “Then stop pouting and eat your meals, sweetheart.”

He sighed again and knew it had done nothing to reassure Minerva.

“Who’s tormenting you so, Severus? What’s tormenting you? I don’t like watching you retreat into your old self, into who you were during the war….”

He stood at that. “Then don’t watch, Minerva,” he told her before striding out of the Great Hall. On his way out, he took five points from a random Gryffindor without giving a reason. 

Already in his office, he tore open the letter with anger. He held his breath and read.

_**Dear Professor Snape,** _

_**Do you really think me a fool? Did you really believe I would be satisfied with those half-truths? Well, think again!** _

_She knows._

_**Who is this mysterious owner? I saw you and Voldemort there, but many more could have visited the place after I left.** _

_She’s not admitting, but she knows._

_**What curse is affecting the ring? I don’t believe your fantastic tale that it’s something only you saw in some obscure book. If you know the curse, explain it to me; I’m sure I have enough knowledge to follow your explanations, Professor. Also, take the opportunity to go into details on how you’ll make the ring safe. I want the long, complete explanation.** _

_**And for the stunt of trying to fool me, you’ll answer my bonus question. How did you survive Nagini?** _

_**The WHOLE truth this time, please.** _

_**Hermione Granger** _

Severus had read the rest of her letter as a blur of words, not really paying attention to anything written there. The first two paragraphs had been enough.

_She knows._

Severus’ fears were confirmed. He rubbed his eyes in a nervous gesture while walking to his desk. He let go of the letter and fell to his chair. 

He had known it would come to this eventually. It annoyed him how this predicted development could make him feel so helpless, torturing him. He snorted at his own predicament. Life worked in loops for him, and now it was torture time, it seemed.

Granger knew the ring was his and yet she wanted him to admit it. She wanted him to spell his shame and humiliation for her with all the words. His head was starting to pound.

He stared at the letter resting over the fourth-year’s essays. He took it in hand and reread it.

There was no point in postponing this. He prepared a quick answer, not resisting the temptation of trying to dissuade her from the truth again and not even worrying if his words read pathetically. He sent it before class and felt humiliated with the deeper corners of his heart exposed. If he had to bleed, he should at least have the comfort of the Claddagh Ring with him.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> **Coming next...** The ring and its owner gain a new meaning for Hermione.


	12. Realizations

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The ring and its owner gain a new meaning for Hermione.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

>  **Disclaimer:** It's not mine, it's all J. K. Rowling's.
> 
> Annie Talbot and Machshefa are the lovely ladies who beta-read this fic! *hugs*

The time spent at the potions labs of the French “Ministere” were nice, even if they had nothing new to show in terms of improvement to the British ways. Hermione had contributed with some suggestions, many of them learned from Professor Snape, and the infuriating wizard had invaded her mind several times that day.

At lunch, the witch responsible for the potions used by the Aurors in France, Potions Mistress Caroline Bessette, made it even more difficult to try to forget Snape. 

“Miss Granger, I understand that you took Potion classes with Master Severus Snape, oui?”

“Yes, for five years, madam.”

“Tell me, is he really that brilliant? His fame in the field is filled with much rumor, I’m afraid. It’s hard to take the truth from the fantasy.”

Hermione made good use of the time she had to chew her food and drink some mineral water to consider her answer. “He’s brilliant,” she simply said, which was true enough. 

Madam Bessette wasn’t interested in how exasperating the man was, or how little he thought of everybody, or even how Hermione didn’t want to talk about him if she couldn’t vent about all those things.

“There are rumors that many of the potions used by Voldemort were created by him. Some even say he kept the monster alive with them.” Madam Bessette tried to disguise how interested she was about the answer, but Hermione knew better. “I suppose those are legends, too,” the witch added.

“No, no. It’s all true. Professor Snape was Voldemort’s Potions Master and kept that monster alive with his potions.” Hermione felt some delight in bashing the man for once, but it was short-lived. Watching the horror in Madam Bessette’s face, she amended, “He was also responsible for creating the antidotes for those potions and helping Dumbledore survive for almost a year before his death. It’s not widely known, but Albus Dumbledore was dying of a curse before...” Hermione realized what she was about to say and let her voice trailed off.

There was silence after Hermione’s statement. Apparently, Madam Bessette was well aware of how that phrase ended. They ate quietly for some minutes until Hermione’s need to defend Snape took over again.

“Professor Snape is a good man at heart. He can be rude, but he was always completely loyal to Dumbledore and Harry after his remorse over joining the wrong side. He was brilliant then and he’s brilliant now in everything he devotes himself to. When he’s working on a potion, his full attention and power is committed to it. It’s almost hypnotic to watch.” 

Madam Bessette was observing her hesitantly. Before she could ask anything, Hermione continued, “Wars change people, and Professor Snape was in the center of two of them. He made mistakes he deeply regretted, I’m sure, but we all did, and he’d redeemed himself with all the help he gave to us. Severus Snape is a hero, if an unorthodox one.” 

Hermione smiled warmly and realized it was sincere. That seemed to have an effect on Madam Bessette, who attempted a smile of her own.

“Dark heroes are most appealing, don’t you think? I’ve seen pictures of him and I have to confess that I was intrigued in many ways. I’ve read that he’d made many sacrifices for love. It’s tragically romantic. I wonder if he’s available.”

Hermione choked on her water. “Why would anyone be interested in that?” she asked when she’d recovered.

“Perhaps you’re too young to appreciate how sexy such men can be.” Madam Bessette chuckled.

They were interrupted by the need to return to work, but that bizarre conversation tormented Hermione all afternoon, and she was still very much aware of their conversation when she read the letter that had been awaiting her that evening.

_**Miss Granger,** _

_**This is getting nowhere. Either you’re satisfied with the answers I give you or we’ll play this game until your fancy is met. I’m not interest in wasting my life trying to convince you that what I tell is the truth.** _

_**Would it change anything if I told you the ring you cherish so much was the Dark Lord’s? What if I confirm that it was his ring, what would you do? Would you believe me, then? The owner is not you and that’s all you need to know.** _

_**Just tell me what you want the truth to be and I’ll put it down into parchment and ink just for you. I don’t have time for games, Miss Granger.** _

_**Severus Snape** _

She’d read and reread those words and yet they didn’t seem to mean what they say. Every single word screamed “The ring is mine, it’s important to me, I need it, give it back, please!” 

Hermione looked at the Claddagh Ring around her right thumb and felt a new contentment in wearing it. It made no sense, but she wanted to let Snape know that his ring was safe with her, that it was important to her, and that knowing that the ring was also important to him made it even more special.

It made Snape special.

She laughed at herself, but it was true. After almost a month of continued communication, she felt as if she was part of his life and he part of hers, and having his ring with her – a Claddagh Ring – made sense. Maybe she was homesick, but that was how she felt. Maybe it was insane, but her conversation with Madam Bessette earlier had ignited a new desire in Hermione; she wanted to see that passionate Snape, Lily’s Snape, the man who owned a Claddagh Ring and cherished it. 

Having no other thought in mind, Hermione wrote a short answer and sent it through the rented owl she’d been using to communicate with Snape. It was Friday and she would be back in London by tomorrow afternoon. It was time for Christmas and also for this suspense to end.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> **Coming next…** Snape weights the pros and cons of a meeting with Hermione.


	13. Helplessness

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Snape weights the pros and cons of a meeting with Hermione.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

>  **Disclaimer:** It's not mine, it's all J. K. Rowling's.
> 
> Annie Talbot and Machshefa are the lovely ladies who beta-read this fic! *hugs*

_**Dear Professor Snape,** _

_**The ring is yours, isn’t it? You let it slip away somehow when you were attacked in the Shrieking Shack.** _

_**Don’t bother with an answer. I’ll be in London for Christmas and we can meet. I’ll let you know the place and time when I know them myself.** _

_**Hermione Granger** _

Severus cursed aloud, not worried that Minerva was just beside him and could hear every ugly profanity. That didn’t mean _she_ wasn’t worried, though.

“Severus, watch your language!” came the stern reprimand.

He simply crushed the letter in one hand, turning it into a small ball of parchment. 

“Who’s sending all these letters to you? Are you being harassed in any way?” Minerva added at that. “I’m quite worried you’re under threats again, that someone might make an attempt against your life. Severus, if you’re in danger, I need to know. Now.”

He held the ball of parchment with the tips of his long fingers and it burst into flames. Minerva squeaked.

“Severus!” she admonished again. 

“Your students are not in danger, Minerva, but you will be if you ask one more question.” He said that and went back to his breakfast as if nothing was amiss. 

Students sitting closer to the High Table stared at them, some in fear, others in admiration. Minerva didn’t seem very comfortable with it.

“Anything you wanted to say, Mr. Heaton?” she asked.

Severus remained in silence for the rest of the meal, and he was glad Minerva did too. He couldn’t trust himself to keep Granger’s name out of any spiteful comment he might make, and that couldn’t happen. His privacy had been too exposed already; he didn’t need Minerva aware of anything.

At least it was Saturday and he didn’t have any classes to teach, although having an excuse for cursing and hexing students was tempting at the moment. He retreated to his quarters, and after hexing some of his belongings, pacing in front of the burning hearth and dinking two doses of Firewhisky, he felt a tiny little bit better.

What would he do? Avoid any further contact, miss the meeting she would schedule, forget about his precious ring? 

He poured another dose of Firewhisky and waited for the answer to come while he drained his glass.

~o0oOo0o~

Severus woke up with his head pounding, and then he realized the pounding wasn’t only in his head but also coming from the door. He stood and became aware of the fact that he’d been sleeping in an armchair. The sound from the door sent a piercing pain through his head again and he cursed. He would hex whoever was knocking. 

Severus opened the door and banged it shut immediately after, then cursed for creating such sharp pain with the action. He rested his head on the door when it trembled with insistent knocking. The pain was excruciating. In a fluid movement, he turned and opened the door again.

“Knock again and I’ll hex your bones from your hand, Potter!” he hissed.

“Can I come in, then?”

“No,” he answered.

“I need to talk to you, and I don’t think you’ll want to have a conversation in the halls, right?”

“Lily sucked in History of Magic and I had to help her with her essays. Now that I saved you and me from the idle talk, leave me alone.”

He was ready to close the door on Potter’s nose for the second time when he felt more resistance; Potter’s hand. Severus glared at the illuminated face of the Prat-Who-Lived.

“Really? I didn’t know that!” Potter’s smile faltered some when he continued, “We’ll have to talk more about it later, though, because now I’m on duty. Headmistress McGonagall reported that you’re getting letters that she suspects are threats. Can I have a look at them?”

“You certainly cannot!” Severus roared.

“I’m sorry, sir, but until I’m sure you’re not under a death threat I’ll have to insist.”

“I’m not under any life threat!” Severus roared again, then took two fingers to massage his aching head. “Potter,” he started, “the only lives at any risk right now are yours, for existing, and Minerva’s, for sending you here. Arrest me now, or get the hell out of my sight before a murder is actually committed!” he hissed.

“Professor, things would be easier for us all if you let me see the letters–”

“Absolutely not!”

“Do you officially attest that your life isn’t in any danger, then, that no one is sending you letters with threats?”

“If that’s what it takes to get you out of here, I do.” 

“I need some information to support your statement, sir. What are the contents of the letters in question?”

Severus growled before spilling all his sarcasm. “They’re love letters from a secret admirer, what else?”

Potter smirked, taking notes of his answers in a notepad.

Severus rolled his eyes; he’d had enough and his head was killing him. When Potter was about to ask something else, he interrupted, “Have a nice life, Potter.” He closed the door and charmed it so he wouldn’t hear any knocks for the time being. His stomach was burning so he took a potion for it, but he would skip dinner, anyway. He didn’t do anything about his pounding head, though. The pain would help him not to think about Miss Granger.

He donned his nightshirt and went to bed. It was early, but he could always read until sleep took him. If he got lucky, the alcohol still in his system would make him fall asleep like it had earlier and this damned day would be over.

Severus had to appeal to a catalogue of potions ingredients before sleep took him from conscious thought.

~o0oOo0o~

It was Sunday, the students had boarded the Hogwarts Express to return home for the holidays the day before, but Severus didn’t leave his quarters for the meals or for anything else, either.

On Monday, knowing that the Headmistress was away for the holidays, Severus ventured out of his quarters; staying locked in there had become claustrophobic. He didn’t go to the Great Hall for meals, but he went for a mind-numbing walk in the icy weather to watch the frozen lake. 

It worked for a while, but when there was nothing to grade, no new articles to examine, and no books that would claim his attention, Severus was at the mercy of his pessimism, fed by fear and pure helplessness. And to think that he could have been blissfully dead if things had progressed as they should have done in the Shrieking Shack, five years ago. To cure this helplessness, this emptiness – that was why he needed his ring.

Or so he hoped.

Somehow he was starting to think that it wouldn’t happen this time around. Lily was gone, actually gone. Back then, he used to bathe because of her, to eat because of her, to breathe because of her. Now he’d go days without remembering her favorite flower, her favorite book, how she would smile in a snowy day, anything. He’d blamed it on the missing ring, but the truth was that he had no need to be with her all the time anymore and there was nothing where she’d been.

He was empty.

To avoid thinking, he resorted to Dreamless Sleep that night.

Of course, it only solved his sleeping problem. On the following morning he still felt miserable and helpless. It was getting on his nerves. Granger had been back in Britain for at least two days and he’d not heard from her. 

He shouldn’t be waiting her to contact him. Severus should go to London and get this over with. 

Only, he couldn’t.

It was driving him mad!

If he didn’t hear from her until Christmas, which meant in two days, he would end this waiting once and for all. If finding her and recovering his ring didn’t undo the wrongness of his existence, he would….

Severus didn’t know what would become of him then.

He went to the Great Hall for lunch that day, so he was there to welcome the most anticipated owl. He didn’t have the presence of mind to gloat over Minerva’s absence before opening the letter. It was short. 

_**Professor Snape,** _

_**I can meet you in the Leaky Cauldron at 2 p.m. tomorrow. I hope you didn’t have any prior engagements.** _

_**Hermione** _

Tomorrow…. 

Tomorrow, on Christmas Eve, Miss Granger would be at the Leaky Cauldron to hand his ring back to him. His stomach went cold; a fear he hadn’t felt in quite a while. 

She would be waiting, but the question remained, should he go there?

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> **Coming next…** Hermione waits for Snape and that definitive talk.


	14. Meeting

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Hermione waits for Snape and that definitive talk.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

>  **Disclaimer:** It's not mine, it's all J. K. Rowling's.
> 
> Annie Talbot and Machshefa are the lovely ladies who beta-read this fic! *hugs*

Hermione had been to her parents’ home, had spent Sunday between the Potters and the Weasleys, had worked all day Monday, being dragged by Ron and George into a pub after the day was over, would be working all day today, but she had the afternoon free tomorrow. She wanted to use this time to buy some last minute gifts, but before that, she had to meet Snape.

She’d sent him a note scheduling a meeting for two in the afternoon at the Leaky Cauldron. She’d been tempted to invite him for lunch, but had thought better of it. Since her last letter, where she’d told him that she thought the ring was his, he’d been silent. Of course, she wrote that he didn’t have to reply, but since when did Professor Snape care for what people told him to do? The fact that he’d followed her instructions had her thinking that perhaps he wouldn’t come.

No, he would come. He wanted the ring really badly, right? He could have sent a note confirming the meeting. That would make things easier, and Hermione wouldn’t have to spend so much time thinking about it. 

To be truthful, she would still be thinking about it, about Snape. It was disconcerting, actually, because how she’d been thinking about him had little to do with how she should think of an ex-professor, a man, say, twenty years her senior, a very complicated man who insulted and despised first, never caring for anyone but himself. 

She wanted to believe that all those things mattered, but every time she added the Claddagh Ring into the equation, she realized that they might not be as important as she’d always believed. Hermione wanted to know Snape, to actually know him.

But what would she do if he didn’t show up tomorrow? Would she go after him? She didn’t know, and she’d contemplated those and other ideas until tomorrow became today.

It had been a snowy night, and when she left the Ministry to go for lunch at the Leaky Cauldron, it was still cold, but the weather was more inviting. It was cozy in the pub, and Hermione had actually got a table for two in one of the corners of the place, keeping her away from the bulk of come-and-goers and with more privacy to meet Snape.

She took her time eating; she didn’t want to have too much time of actual waiting. She’d brought a book to distract her, but still. Her mind wouldn’t let her pay attention to the book as much as it was letting her pay attention to her meal.

Hermione drank the last of her hot chocolate and had at least twenty minutes to wait. She watched the movement of wizards and witches, entire families, walking in and out of the pub, coming and going from and to Diagon Alley, surely for last minute shopping. 

While she observed, her mind wandered to the man she was waiting for, trying to imagine how Snape would spend Christmas. Would he visit friends? Professor Snape with friends was a difficult image to conjure. Would he spend the night with his family? Did he have any family? Mother, father, siblings… maybe a cousin… wife, kids…. Could Snape be married? Surely not; she would know if he were, right? A man couldn’t hide a family for that much time…. Yet, what did she know of Snape? Nothing at all.

Hermione ordered another cup of hot chocolate and opened her book. Divination was not her thing, and ruling that out, she had no way of knowing the answers to her curious doubts. Some of them she might get from Snape, if he showed up. Until then she would try to relax and read, and so she did.

Two o’clock and he wasn’t there yet. Five past two and no sign of Snape. 

_When had Snape been late for anything?_

Two more minutes and Hermione was still alone in her table for two. 

_He isn’t coming. Of course he isn’t coming._

She tried to repress her feelings of disappointment; she tried to read another page before deciding whether she should wait any longer or accept that he wasn’t coming. 

“Did you bring the ring?”

She almost yelped in surprise. Looking up, she met the gaze of Professor Snape, menacingly standing at the side of the table.

“You’re late.”

He glared down at her. Hermione met his glare with firm calm. 

“Talking would be easier if you sat down, Professor,” she told him.

The moment of staring ended abruptly when he finally decided to take the chair across the small table.

“Where is it?” he asked. His tone of voice was quiet but clear over the hubbub of the pub.

“It’s with me,” she answered. “Do you want to order something to drink? I can–”

“Let’s not pretend that this is a social visit, Miss Granger,” he interrupted.

This didn’t start well. It was obvious that he wasn’t interested in anything but getting his hands on the ring. _Let’s get to business, then._

“Can I know the truth now?” she asked.

She watched his eyes narrow a bit.

“You’ve already figured it out, Miss Granger. The Claddagh Ring is mine and I want it back.”

“And why didn’t you say so before?” she insisted.

“Does it matter?”

Why was this so unsettling to him? Did he think that admitting he had a Claddagh Ring would diminish his unpleasantness somehow? _Well, think again, Professor!_

She laced her fingers and placed her hands over the book she’d discarded on the table. Hermione had the ring, thus the power, and there was no way she would get out of this meeting without some satisfactory answers.

“It matters, yes. I’m sorry, but your words proved to be empty; you’ve been lying in your letters since the beginning. You’ll have to do better than simply stating that it’s yours. I need proof.”

His eyes were definitely narrowed now. She didn’t squirm under his scrutiny and felt good about it. She raised her chin, defying him to intimidate her.

“I have no proof, Miss Granger, but you know it’s mine. How can you sleep at night, having something you know isn’t yours and which the rightful owner is claiming. How can you deny my claim?” 

It was Hermione’s turn to narrow her eyes. Was he calling her a thief, a blackmailer? 

“If it’s really yours, I won’t make a fuss about returning it to you, so don’t make me look bad in this situation, Professor. But without evidence, it’s hard to believe you.” 

“So I’ve been told,” he said with pursed lips, probably not for her to hear, but she heard, anyway.

This conversation was leaning towards dark paths, and she hadn’t intended to go anywhere near there.

“This has nothing to do with anything you did in the past. I would trust you with my life if need be.” She sighed. “It’s just… I want to know more about this ring. It’s been important to me since I found it. I’ve wondered since I found it how it ended up in the Shrieking Shack, who its owner was, how he’d acquired it… you know, the story behind it.” 

He rolled his eyes. “This is not a fairy tale,” he complained.

If Hermione thought he’d been infuriating in written form, she’d forgotten how much worse he could be in person. She was losing her patience. 

“I didn’t say it was,” she said irritated. 

“Then why are you making a tempest in a teapot?” 

The way he dismissed the whole matter with his gestures and expression was making Hermione’s blood boil.

“This matters to me; this ring matters to me.”

“It’s not yours. Get over it, already.” 

At least that was said with a little more passion, she thought. 

“I need to know!” she said, leaning her head towards him, so she wouldn’t get too loud in such a public place.

“That’s the problem, Miss Granger, you don’t. It has nothing to do with you. You found something, you kept it, you came across the actual owner,” he inclined his head in a short bow, taking a hand to his chest to emphasize his point, “and now you’re dutifully returning it–” 

“How am I to know if the ring was really yours?” she interrupted, not containing her indignation anymore.

“It’s still mine,” he corrected, but she wasn’t really listening.

“How will I know if you’re not lying to me yet again just because you’re a Slytherin bastard who loves tormenting Gryffindors?” What had started as a lengthy rant stopped there. Hermione would have taken her hands to her mouth were this happening some years ago. Now, she simply blushed in an uncontrollable reaction to insulting the man. 

Then he arched an eyebrow. He seemed amused, and she felt like calling him names again. To add to that, he said, “Don’t let my presence stop you. Please, continue.” He waved a hand to accentuate his request and then crossed his arms over his chest. 

Watching him smirk like a sarcastic prat made using the power she had over him second nature to Hermione. “I should just leave and never talk to you again,” was her answer.

The smug expression was gone, and he uncrossed his arms, bending forward and making his hair fall like a curtain over his face, but not hiding his intense eyes that seemed to penetrate Hermione’s. She’d never realized how much power radiated from those black orbs until now; they were beautiful, actually. 

But all thoughts of his eyes were forgotten when he said, quietly, “Fine, what do you want to know?”

That invitation silenced Hermione, who remained staring at his face, now thrown off of balance by this abrupt change in their conversation.

“I promise I’ll tell the truth, just ask whatever you want to know so I can have the ring back.”

Hermione couldn’t remember hearing such sincerity from that silky voice before, not directed at her. She was suddenly at a loss of what to say. Finally, she settled for her most sincere curiosity. 

“Why do you want this ring?”

That seemed to annoy him again. 

“What do you want to hear? That it belonged to my deceased wife? That I have a sick baby daughter at home who won’t get better until her dearest dad brings home her Claddagh Ring for Christmas?”

She didn’t know what to say to that. She didn’t know what to think of what he’d said. She could only stare, not wanting to interrupt him for some reason.

He sighed in irritation before continuing, “I want it because it’s mine! What can’t you understand, Miss Granger? Because I can be clearer: I… want… it… because… it’s… MINE!” 

That answer was not what she expected. He was evading the question again, and that bristled up her nerves. 

“I don’t believe you.”

He growled.

She continued, “Because if I do, it’ll mean that your life has no meaning at all. That you planned on dying that day in the Shrieking Shack. That you’re even more miserable than you were during the war….”

Now he was staring at her in silence. She felt the need to say something.

“I don’t want to believe that.”

“You’re right.”

His agreement took her by surprise. It placed a weight over her heart that made her want to disagree with what she, herself, had said. She didn’t have the opportunity to do so.

“I’m a miserable, frustrated suicidal whose life has no meaning at all.”

She looked in horror at him. Hermione was numb with surprise while she watched him stand up from his chair.

He bended near her ear and added, “Keep the damned ring.”

When she had finally overcome her surprise and turned to see where he’d gone, she didn’t see him. 

She’d let him go without his ring.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> **Coming next…** Hermione gets desperate and goes after Snape.


	15. Amends

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Hermione gets desperate and goes after Snape.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

>  **Disclaimer:** It's not mine, it's all J. K. Rowling's.
> 
> Annie Talbot and Machshefa are the lovely ladies who beta-read this fic! *hugs*

Hermione hadn’t been able to enjoy the shopping that afternoon, and she hadn’t been able to partake in the cheerful mood of the party at the Burrow that night, either. That was why she’d refused Harry’s invitation for Christmas brunch. She’d told him she would spend the day with her parents, but the truth was that she didn’t feel like celebrating after what Snape had said.

Frustrated suicidal whose life had no meaning at all….

If he hadn’t been so serious about saying that, Hermione would have dismissed it as dark sarcasm. She still wanted to, but knew she would be fooling herself if she did so. He’d meant it, he’d really meant it. 

Hermione curled further up on her couch. She held her mug of tea with both hands, wanting the warmth to spread and give her comfort. 

He couldn’t be manipulating her, could he? A flash of anger seeped through Hermione’s sympathy. She wouldn’t put it beyond him to use such low means to get what he wanted. 

Then she forgot all about it when she remembered she still had the ring.

Could this ring mean so much to him that it alone gave his life meaning? That was heavy even for her. Snape couldn’t have such strong feelings for something he once called a piece of cheap metal. 

What if there was truth amidst all his sarcastic answers? Maybe this ring had belonged to a deceased wife or daughter…. It was a sad idea that left Hermione’s heart full of guilt. There was no more reason to doubt Snape – this ring was his.

Hermione left the couch and walked to the desk that faced the big window. She placed her mug on the coaster and opened a drawer where she kept blank parchment and envelopes. She would write to Snape asking for another meeting.

~o0oOo0o~

It’d been two days already, and no sign of Snape. Hermione didn’t want to force a meeting, but she couldn’t let go, either. If the ring meant to him as much as she thought it did, he would regret what he’d said and would want to meet with her again eventually.

Her instincts were pushing her towards Hogsmeade, screaming that she should go after him. But Hermione didn’t want to be invasive. The man was private. How long had they corresponded, and how much have he revealed? He treasured his privacy and she wouldn’t invade it like that.

Hermione looked at the ring in her thumb, watching the play of the firelight on its stones. Not even the distractions of work were succeeding on taking her mind off of Snape.

She would write him another letter, this time reassuring him that she wouldn’t be asking for proofs that the ring was his. She just wanted to make wrong right again; she needed to meet him.

She prepared a letter and would send it on her way to Harry’s house next morning.

~o0oOo0o~

Lunch at Grimmauld Place on Sundays had always cheered Hermione’s spirit, but this Sunday, the laughter of her friends wasn’t taking her out of her blues. She could fake happiness like she’d done in the war years, but it felt awful to do so. She preferred to slip unnoticed from the kitchen and go to somewhere quieter.

She thought she’d been successful until Harry knocked on the door of the library, startling her.

“I’m sorry if I startled you,” he apologized, entering the room and taking one of the leather chairs.

Hermione turned to the shelves again, trying to select something interesting enough to take her mind of the letter she’d sent earlier. She took her time reading the titles, enjoying the feel of the books under her fingers as she went.

“What’s wrong, Hermione?” 

Hermione finally selected a book and joined Harry on the leather chairs. “Why does it have to be something wrong?” she asked. 

“You left the kitchen without saying where you were going. Also, Ron has been saying all sort of nonsense and you haven’t admonished him once.” 

Harry smiled, but something in her answering smile made him sober. “Hermione….”

“I’m fine, Harry. You don’t have to worry. You can tell the others in the kitchen prying into my life that I missed your library, that’s all,” she said, lifting the book she was holding. “I wonder how you conspirators choose who gets to come after your victims.”

“Would you prefer Ron?” 

Hermione snorted despite her gloomy mood. It was well known that Ron was not to be trusted to conduct a serious conversation with her without them getting into a fight. That was the universally known reason why they’d broken up a couple of years ago.

“You’ll come to me if there’s something bothering you, right?” Harry asked more seriously.

“Of course,” she assured him.

He nodded, standing up to leave Hermione with the company of his inherited books.

Hermione actually tried to focus her attention on the book, but she ended up staring into space more often than not, lost in thoughts.

Even if the rest of the house had been thoroughly changed and highly improved, the library remained practically unchanged, bringing many memories of wartime. She could remember times when Snape had attended meetings there, mostly on call from Dumbledore. The old man had made him miserable then, and she was making him miserable now.

Hermione held her head in her hands. Should she go after him, consequences be damned? What if it made things even worse? 

She had to wait for an answer to her letters, and this was torturing her.

 _Snape must be laughing about the agony he knows he’s causing_ , Hermione thought and felt a bit better about her situation.

She decided she’d wallowed in guilt long enough and joined the others in the kitchen. There was nothing she could do now but wait.

~o0oOo0o~

Hermione could forget Snape while she worked, at least most of the time, but when she got home, there was nothing to distract her. It was Tuesday already and no sign of the man. She’d thought about writing to Minerva to see if she could mediate a meeting between them, but discarded the idea as desperate.

As the evening turned into night, not even Apparating to Hogwarts at such a late hour seemed desperate if that meant she would meet him. Of course she didn’t do it, but she wrote another letter that read just as desperate as that.

_**Professor Snape,** _

_**Please answer my letters. I just want to meet you to return your ring. I thought I made that clear on the previous requests for a meeting. I can Apparate into Hogsmeade, go to Hogwarts, it’s no problem. Just, please, answer this letter.** _

_**I promise I won’t question you. Let’s meet, please.** _

_**Hermione** _

Yes, it read like she was desperate, but she was getting worried and this might incite an answer. She folded it to send in the morning.

And if there was no answer by the end of day, the last of the year, she would go to Hogwarts. It was Hermione’s first New Year’s resolution for 2004.

~o0oOo0o~

January first, Thursday. Hermione held her cloak firmly around her neck to protect herself from the piecing wind. She knew it would be colder in Scotland and came prepared. The walk from the gates to the doors of the castle was not too long, but the snow slowed her.

When she went through the big doors and into the Entrance Hall, she let the welcoming warmth wrap up around her, helping the process by drying her clothes with a practiced charm.

She took a good look around. Unlike Harry, she hadn’t been to Hogwarts often and it had been at least a couple of years since her last visit.

The castle remained unchanged after the many repairs that followed the aftermath of battle.

Warmer, Hermione headed for the dungeons. He could ignore her letters all he wanted, but he would have to listen to her in person. 

Maybe not.

Hermione was tired of knocking on every single door to every single room he might have been hiding in. The infuriating man was ignoring her knocks!

But Hermione wasn’t going to waste her trip. She decided that now was the time to ask Minerva to intercede on her behalf. Snape surely couldn’t ignore a call from the Headmistress.

She met the gargoyles and asked for the Headmistress. 

“The Headmistress is away. You can either come back on a better day or meet with the Deputy Headmaster.”

Hermione sighed. “Who’s the Deputy Headmaster?”

“Professor Filius Flitwick.”

Hermione was starting to lose hope on a meeting with Snape. As she walked to Professor Flitwick’s office, she wondered how the tiny wizard could make Snape meet her. She knocked anyway.

“Oh, hello, my dear!” 

She had to smile at the professor’s enthusiasm. “Hello, Professor. I’m sorry to bother you, but I need to speak with Professor Snape and couldn’t find him in the dungeons. Minerva is away and the gargoyles sent me to you. Do you know where can I find Professor Snape, sir?”

“I’m afraid he’s away as well. Did you try to reach him by owl?”

“He’s away? Since when?” 

Her questions seemed to confuse the tiny man.

“It’s nothing serious, but I’ve been trying to reach him since Christmas,” she said to clarify.

“He left last Friday. He said he’d be back by the start of the term.” Her distress must have shown, because he added, “I got an owl from him yesterday about some school business. You should try to owl him.”

So he was ignoring her. She felt relived and annoyed at the same time. She hadn’t realized how much she had feared for him until she’d heard that news. But even if he was fine, the fact remained that he wasn’t there and that he was still ignoring her letters.

She thanked Professor Flitwick and went back home. There was nothing she could do at Hogwarts if Snape wasn’t there. Hermione wondered where he’d gone; she couldn’t think of Snape living anywhere but Hogwarts, even though he obviously had a home elsewhere. 

If Snape thought he could drive her insane with guilt, he was very wrong. She would be leaving for Bulgaria in a couple of days, but before she left, Hermione had a last letter to write and another visit to pay.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> **Coming next…** Snape tries to find a meaning for his live and receives a visit.


	16. Delivery

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Snape tries to find a meaning for his live and receives a visit.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

>  **Disclaimer:** It's not mine, it's all J. K. Rowling's.
> 
> Annie Talbot and Machshefa are the lovely ladies who beta-read this fic! *hugs*

Severus, upon receiving the first of Granger’s letters that had followed that disastrous meeting, had no other option but leave Hogwarts for the holidays. She would eventually try to reach him there. She had exuded pity all over, and Severus was tired of pity. He didn’t need it, didn’t want it – never would. 

The bright side of this decision to leave was, of course, being away from Granger’s pity, the not-so-bright side of this, though, was that he didn’t have anywhere to go except his childhood home in Spinner’s End. He had no choice. There was nowhere else to go.

So, to Spinner’s End he went, convinced that it was preferable to the alternative. He could hide there like he’d often done during the war, and he would ignore her as long as possible. This would give him time to recover from the conversation they’d had, from the humiliation he’d undergone, and more importantly, to grow some immunity to this woman, who had been only an annoying girl not so very long ago.

What happened to that girl? She had obviously become a dangerous woman. She knew how to get to him and she wasn’t afraid to use that power, unlike most people. She defied him, doubted him, and made him make a fool of himself.

The worst part of this was Granger’s ability to expose him, most notably, to himself. He’d gone there with the specific objective of getting his ring back, and he’d left pushing it back at her and admitting his misery and that he was living a life without a meaning. 

_I’m a pathetic failure of a human being._

He knew it, and he didn’t need to be reminded. For three days he wasn’t, for three days he’d been left in what passed for peace in his life, thinking Granger had gone on with her perfect life and had left him to his miserable one.

On the third of those days, the oppression he felt and blamed on being stuck in that deplorable house, haunted by painful memories, became unbearable even for him. If he had to be haunted by memories of his childhood, he preferred the ones outside, and donning a cloak, he went for a long walk. 

He trailed the sure steps of a well-known path, not actually looking around, simply feeling the cold air of the breeze coming from the unsheltered icy river. The white background, stained with tinges of gray, blended with his mood and appearance, making him seem even more a part of the landscape. But his mind’s eye didn’t see the world in the monochromatic colors in front of him, but in all the greens and blues, bright reds and comforting browns of summers spent in the company of his happiness – for Lily had been the only happiness in his life. 

For years, he hadn’t gone looking for his happy memories. They had always been there, attached to his biggest mistakes, keeping him strong and alive.

Whole.

Now there was something missing, something he’d lost. It was maddening, and it had taken him to the old playground. It wasn’t the same, neither in appearance nor in sentiment. She wasn’t there; he wasn’t there. Determined not to go back to his misery without finding this piece of himself, Severus walked down the street, letting his soul guide him to a house, but when he got there, brick and cold glass met him; no warmth, no joy, no guilt, only indifference and nothing else at all.

Severus observed the house Lily had lived in during their childhood with black eyes that reflected the state of his spirit. He gave time enough for the old feelings to manifest, but they remained inert, his heart untouched. He replayed in his mind important moments lived there, but they were nothing but the past – a very distant past.

Turning his back to this futile exercise, defeated, he went back to his shabby house, knowing he wouldn’t be whole ever again, not even with Lily’s memory. He entered his book-filled living room expecting to be greeted with a deepening loneliness, but instead found an owl perched on the arm of the old couch. 

For a moment, his heart expanded at the sight of it. Then he remembered that it was most probably from Flitwick – nothing to get excited about. But the moment he felt the parchment with his fingers, he knew it was from her and paused – his heart had just expanded again, and this time Severus couldn’t do anything to contain it. 

Her message wasn’t long, and if he looked at the essence of it, it was rather simple: _meet me again, I believe you._

He frowned; she pitied him. Even though he was certain of that, Severus didn’t dispose of her letter. He refolded it and let it fall over the book he’d been reading. He left for the kitchen, suddenly noticing he was hungry.

~o0oOo0o~

It was the last day of the year, but for Severus it was a day like every other. He hadn’t planned anything special for the evening and wouldn’t. He’d been organizing all the books he kept there – a task most overdue. It’s had been three days since Granger had written him last. If she was methodical, he might get a visit from another owl before the day was over.

It was little past noon when his predictions were confirmed. He smirked, satisfied, taking the missive from the bird and reading it as he walked towards the kitchen. He stopped short of getting there, arching his eyebrows at the content of the letter.

Granger was _pleading_ him to answer her letters, to meet her. _Pleading._

Severus didn’t know what to make of a pleading Hermione Granger. Again, where was the proud Gryffindor girl, the annoying girl who made sure she was the one helping the inept students with her superior intellect just to show she didn’t need any help? The showoff was gone?

Severus made his way to the small kitchen of his house, trying to come to grips with who he was dealing with. When he came back to the living room bringing a cup of tea, he was lost in thought, the books all around forgotten. 

He tried to forget the girl and focus on the woman he’d met at the Leaky Cauldron. He attempted to replay in his mind all her expressions, her gestures. She had expressive eyes, big brown eyes that betrayed her thoughts without the need for Legilimency. Her hands were delicate, small and looked soft.

Only then had Severus remembered the ring. It caught him by surprise, not because he hadn’t seen her wearing it that day, but because he hadn’t thought about it in a while. He frowned at the realization. This _was_ all about his ring after all.

Be that as it may, Severus folded the letter and left it on the couch when he stood. He didn’t intend to answer, so it didn’t matter what had brought this behavior on. Hell could freeze over and Severus wouldn’t care less.

He worked all day at his books, but at night, close to midnight, he chose a nice bottle of Muggle wine and poured some in a simple glass goblet. He rolled the liquid on his tongue, savoring it as the old clock chimed the end of that year. 

He went upstairs not much later, preparing for a good night of sleep. Before Morpheus dragged him into unconsciousness, the vision of brown eyes looking intently at him, together with the memory of the letters, made a smile grow from the corners of his mouth. 

Severus dreamed that night, but he didn’t remember any of it in the morning.

~o0oOo0o~

Hogwarts was safe again, or so the letter Flitwick had sent suggested. Granger had visited the castle yesterday, looking for him, and had gone home frustrated, or so he hoped. 

This situation was starting to entertain him. Granger was being driven insane by his disregard of her pity. She’d pleaded, she’d gone after him. It was good for her to drink some of her own venom, being tortured herself just like she’d tortured him every time she’d denied him the ring.

What would she do next? This new Hermione Granger was much more interesting than her younger version. He didn’t have to hide anymore; he had the upper hand now. So he decided he could leave Spinner’s End. It was Friday, and he could enjoy a castle free of students for one last weekend before the new term started. He would devote some time to his neglected research, and would wait for Granger’s next step.

Because he had no doubt that being the Gryffindor the she was, she wouldn’t give up until she got what she wanted, whatever it was.

~o0oOo0o~

A knock on his office door disturbed Severus. The term had started today and he was already being exposed to the annoying students.

“Come in,” he called irritated.

He regretted it the moment the door opened to admit his nemesis, Harry bloody Potter.

“We need to talk,” Potter informed him.

Severus arched an eyebrow at his audacity. “I certainly don’t need to talk to you, Potter. In fact, I don’t need or want to do so.” Severus dismissed Potter with that and went back to his marking.

“I’m here on behalf of someone else,” Potter continued, taking a seat in front of his desk without being asked, as always. “I came to deliver a letter and I need you to read it before I go.”

Severus snorted in spite of his pretence of ignoring the man. “You really should ask about owls, Potter. They’re very capable birds, very efficient in delivering mail.”

A letter fell over the essay he was marking. Severus looked up with a sneer. He opened his mouth to talk, but Potter was faster.

“You want me out, read the letter.” Severus’ nemesis crossed his arms over his chest and reclined on his chair.

Severus glared, taking the parchment Potter had just thrown at him to throw it back when he felt the quality of the paper. He looked at the envelope and narrowed his eyes.

“What is this?” he asked, suspicious. It was obviously a letter from Granger, but Severus had to ask. What had Potter to do with this?

“It’s a letter, sir, and one you should read before I’m free to go.”

Severus’ eyes remained narrowed while he glared at Potter. “I can see it’s a letter, you moron. What do you have to do with it?”

“Why don’t you read it and find out?” Potter smirked.

“Who sent you here?” Severus wanted to know how much Potter knew.

“Sir, just open the letter,” Potter said, seeming annoyed.

Too curious by now, Severus opened Granger’s letter.

_**Professor Snape,** _

_**I know you don’t want to meet me, I’m not stupid, but don’t think you can ignore and avoid me forever. You left before we finished our conversation. It wasn’t my intention to scare or insult you.** _

_**The ring is yours, I have no doubt now. I was simply trying to understand the importance it had for you, but I think I got carried away. I didn’t want you to leave that way, and I’ve been looking for you ever since to apologize.** _

_**So, I’m sorry.** _

Severus sighed.

_**I know how important the Claddagh Ring is for you – much more than it is for me. Even though I don’t know your reasons, I want you to have it back. I’m spending a month in Bulgaria, but ask Harry for the box; he has it.** _

_She gave the ring to Potter! She told him about this!_ Severus didn’t even know what made him read further.

_**By the way, he doesn’t know what this is all about. I wouldn’t violate your privacy like that, I couldn’t. If he acts like he knows something, it is because he wants you to betray some information, it’s an Auror technique. But I’m sure you know all that.** _

_**Before I leave you, I have one last thing to ask: answer my letters, please.** _

_**Yours,  
Hermione** _

Severus didn’t know if it was the request or how she’d signed the letter, but he felt like smiling. He didn’t, of course, but the feeling was there. 

Potter was staring at him, he was aware of that. He folded the letter and met his gaze.

“I think you have something else for me.”

Potter took a small bag from inside his robes and offered it to Severus. He took it, but didn’t open, placing it on a drawer of his desk.

“You can leave now, Potter,” he dismissed the messenger.

“I think Hermione will be expecting an answer,” Potter said.

“That’s none of your business. You made the delivery, now go play owl somewhere else.” Severus stood up, placed his hands on the desk, and arched an eyebrow at Potter.

Potter sighed and stood to leave. When he stopped on the way out and looked back, ready to say something, Severus barked, “Out.”

This time he went, cursing under his breath, and Severus was free to turn his smirk into a smile when the door banged shut.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> **Coming next…** Hermione tries to live without the ring and its owner.


	17. Wait

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Hermione tries to live without the ring and its owner.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

>  **Disclaimer:** It's not mine, it's all J. K. Rowling's.
> 
> Annie Talbot and Machshefa are the lovely ladies who beta-read this fic! *hugs*

Hermione had been in Sofia, capital city of Muggle and wizarding Bulgaria, since Sunday morning, but her thoughts and heart remained in London with Harry and the ring. Did she make the right decision in sending Harry to Hogwarts? She would know in the morning….

She hoped Snape would understand that Harry was the only one she could trust with his ring. She hoped he didn't guess that she knew Snape would cooperate just to get rid of him... but _would_ he cooperate? Never had a Monday taken so long to end.

She missed the ring. It was foolish, but she missed it. Hermione knew it had a symbolic value to her, that it meant surviving the war and honoring the dead, but since the first letter from Snape, it had acquired an altogether different meaning. It’d meant she had something connecting her to someone else in such a strong way that the physical absence of it felt like the absence of _him_. 

Crazy, she knew. But some feelings were difficult to explain, if not impossible. She surely couldn’t explain why seeing Snape so miserable had made her feel so guilty. He was always trying to make her miserable, insulting her in every way possible, yet she felt guilty and worried.

And now she missed him! How could she miss him? 

Maybe the ring had really been cursed and she was under some spell.

Hermione sighed. There was no good that could come of this train of thought. Auror Konsta Petrov was almost finished with his explanation of how their legal system differed from Britain’s. She would have to read in the books he’d lent her all she’d missed.

It ended up being a good thing. Hermione fell asleep reading and didn’t have the opportunity to lose sleep over what she still insisted was unimportant: Snape’s reaction to her letter.

~o0oOo0o~

Hermione knew her plan had worked because Harry had sent a letter telling her so, but that was all. No word from Snape, not even a message through Harry. She felt a little disappointed; she’d awaited some kind of answer.

Of course, now that Snape had his ring back, why would he write? To thank her? She didn’t think so. She would most probably never hear from him again.

The idea was so sour that she lost her appetite, leaving half of her breakfast untouched. Three days had passed since Harry had delivered the ring, since Snape had read her letter asking him to answer. It had been a long shot, but she really wanted to know his reaction to the ring. She felt badly for not being able to deliver it herself.

Hermione spent the day gloomy about the absence of both the ring and Snape’s answer.

At night, she’d been reading in bed, hoping to fall asleep, when an owl tapped at the window. 

Hermione leaped from the bed and almost ran to the window. The freezing breeze that chilled the room didn’t concern her while she disentangled the letter from the owl’s paw, and the cold meant even less when she recognized his handwriting.

_He answered!_

Quickly, she opened the envelope and read Snape’s letter.

_**Dear Miss Granger,** _

_**Your idea of sending Potter to torment me was appalling in the least. I’m only writing because I can’t understand how someone as intelligent as you could have trusted my ring to such a moron. Despicable, Miss Granger.** _

_**It was purely luck that my ring got back to me safely. To think that you said it was precious to you. I wonder what you do with something you dislike.** _

_**I’m just glad the ring was saved in time.** _

_**Severus Snape** _

“Jerk,” she cursed aloud, but she had a smile on her lips. She didn’t know why such an insulting letter from Snape made her happy. Maybe it was the slipped compliment in it. He’d called her intelligent. She wondered if he’d even realized what he had said in the process of demeaning Harry.

Hermione folded the letter and went to bed. Suddenly, she was really tired, and sleep didn’t take long to enfold her. Dark eyes with incredible depth were all she would remember of her dream that night.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> **Coming next…** Letters that build a friendship.


	18. Friendship

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Letters that build a friendship.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

>  **Disclaimer:** It's not mine, it's all J. K. Rowling's.
> 
> Annie Talbot and Machshefa are the lovely ladies who beta-read this fic! *hugs*

That first letter after the return of the ring had opened a new channel of communication between Hermione and Severus. Hermione had answered his owl in the morning, not wanting their communication to end.

At first, the letters had almost the same tone as the previous ones. Hermione would rebut Severus’ sarcasm with pointed words.

_**(…)** _

_**Your ring was never at risk, so stop the drama. Besides, this whole ring impasse is solved. Can we move on?** _

_**(…)** _

But even words written in that light were never meant to hurt, and somehow both knew that. It didn’t matter how odd or improbable a friendship between them seemed; it was developing nonetheless.

Not even they seemed to understand each other’s reasons for continuing. Every letter would end with an added comment, searching for reassurance.

_**(…)** _

_**It snowed all day today. I didn’t know the winter in Bulgaria could be so severe. How’s the weather in Scotland?** _

_**Yours,  
Hermione** _

_**PS: Thanks for answering.** _

Severus didn’t make it easier for Hermione. He’d had several decades of guarding himself from others, never letting go of his personal defenses. It couldn’t be easy for him, either. His first reaction was always the attack.

_**(…)** _

_**Cold, damp, and dark.** _

_**Discussing the weather is very interesting. It’s like talking about NOTHING at all.** _

_**Even my moron students could have come up with something better to make me waste my time with. Broken arms, furniture destruction, Transfiguration of body parts, classroom redecoration… I could spend the days laughing if I wasn’t so busy with detentions and taking all those points from Gryffindor.** _

_**Severus Snape** _

_**PS: I’m not answering because you asked.** _

What Severus didn’t expect was her persistence. Maybe he’d hoped she would persist, but his life experience didn’t leave him with grounds to believe this would happen. But Hermione wasn’t like anyone he’d met in his life. She was bold and didn’t fear him.

_**Dear Professor Snape,** _

_**I thought that giving detentions and taking points from Gryffindor were what made you happy in the first place. I don’t think I have ever heard your laughter and was distracted all day trying to imagine it. What makes you laugh?** _

_**(…)** _

_**Since you were bored when we discussed the weather, maybe you’ll agree to discuss something more interesting, let’s say, how you survived that evil snake. Or we can discuss favorite colors, foods, music….** _

_**I want to know you better.** _

_**Yours,  
Hermione** _

_**PS: Why are you answering, then?** _

To say that Severus was scared of mere words such as “I want to know you better” seemed crazy, but that was a truth he would never admit. His first urge was to cut all communication with Hermione, but after a day spent in a very bad mood, culminating with an annoying conversation with Minerva during breakfast the following morning – where house-elf-made toast was mentioned – Severus wrote a quick answer.

_**Dear Miss Granger,** _

_**I don’t laugh. I’m a teacher, I live in misery. I thought we’d covered that already.** _

_**My color is black. Chocolate is my favorite food. I like the sound of the piano.** _

_**Severus Snape** _

_**PS: Why do you keep writing?** _

It was as impersonal as possible, short and biting. Nonetheless, Hermione was delighted upon receiving it. For her, it meant they were starting a friendship, and she was looking forward to it. There was something about Severus that made Hermione happy. Maybe it was the fact that she was trying to make him happy and would now have a chance to succeed. Maybe it was something else entirely; something she couldn’t recognize and wasn’t trying to.

She decided she didn’t need to be so cautious with her words after that last letter. It was like a surety bond to go on and get to know him better. It was also a challenge. In her answer, Hermione let go of the formalities and didn’t hold back any impulse to write whatever she wanted to write him.

_**Dear Severus,** _

_**Chocolate? Really? I didn’t think you had a taste for sweets, but that made me come up with a new theory. I think the reason you don’t laugh is because you don’t eat enough chocolate. Now I keep imagining that your laughter is rich as chocolate and it’s all your fault.** _

_**Chocolate ice-cream, hot chocolate, chocolate cake, chocolate éclairs… your laughter.** _

_**(…)** _

_**I like fruit. Strawberries, apples, plums. My favorite color is blue, and I love the sound of the piano, too. Do you play?** _

_**That reminds me to ask you, how did you survive Nagini?** _

_**Yours,  
Hermione** _

_**PS: Because you keep answering.** _

Severus had to read it several times, especially the chocolate part of it. If he had allowed his face to reveal emotions, it would show shock. Was she… flirting with him? If Severus didn’t know better, he would believe so. 

_Merlin, chocolate éclairs!_

This caught Severus so unaware that it took him a while to realize how Hermione had addressed him.

Of course, Hermione had no idea what this chocolate talk meant to Severus, and he revealed none of his reaction in his reply to her. 

_**Dear Hermione,** _

_**My laughter has nothing to do with chocolate. What ridiculous notion is that?** _

_**I don’t play any instruments, but I will bet that you play at least three, being the know-it-all that you are.** _

_**I had a Bezoar under my tongue that day.** _

_**Severus** _

_**PS: Who said you could drop the formalities?** _

Her first name on the top of the letter betrayed him. Hermione knew he hadn’t been offended by her liberties. He’d even answered her questions without much fuss. Of course she didn’t believe in the Bezoar story, but still! She was happy that he’d stopped ignoring the subject.

_**Dear Severus,** _

_**Thinking that you have a rich laughter is not ridiculous. Your voice is velvety and rich, quite beautiful, actually. I could only assume that your laughter would follow suit. I think I’ll find out for myself soon enough.** _

_**I play the piano, but I failed to learn the violin. Satisfied now?** _

_**Before I forget, a Bezoar couldn’t have saved you that day. How did you survive, Severus?** _

_**Yours,  
Hermione** _

_**PS: It seemed wrong to keep calling you Professor.** _

It was definitely wrong to call him Professor, especially after the whole chocolate talk. He’d been dreaming about Hermione feeding him truffles, biting a chocolate-covered strawberry and licking the excess from her lips, and it was driving him mad.

He was mad to go on feeding these fantasies, especially because, if there was anything between them, it was friendship and nothing else. 

All things chocolate left aside, Severus continued to correspond with Hermione and opened up to friendship like he hadn’t had since childhood, since Lily. 

It was terrifying, particularly because she was so much younger than he. And like Lily, Hermione didn’t depend on their friendship to be happy; she had other friends, people her own age. 

Severus tended to reach for the ring in his pocket when his thoughts trailed that way. It was the need to hold onto Hermione that made him hold the Claddagh Ring. If he failed her, too, like he’d failed Lily….

But the letters kept coming and going, and as long as he had them – and the ring – he would live. He didn’t need much; he had learned long ago that happiness was a relative concept.

What Severus didn’t know was that Hermione had very different plans where his happiness was concerned. A short letter might have warned him. 

_**Dear Severus,** _

_**You’re not a vampire! You were very much alive before that monster bit you – and I’m talking about Nagini, not Dracula! This explanation is even more preposterous than the Bezoar, the Muggle CPR, and the Polyjuice all together!** _

_**You must be having a laugh of your life over this.** _

_**Anyway, I’m taking a Portkey to London later today, and we’ll be able to meet next weekend, finally. I’ll hear your chocolate-rich laughter then.** _

_**I’ll send a letter confirming the time and place.** _

_**Love,  
Hermione** _

It’d been all very good up to that letter. Severus could handle Hermione at a safe distance, and as far as safe went, Bulgaria was perfect, London was risky, but face to face was disaster. 

_Did she have to mention chocolate?_

Severus rolled the ring between two fingers on the inside of his pocket, hoping he would find a way to avoid this meeting – for his heart’s sake.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> **Coming next…** A second meeting, now with chocolate.


	19. Hanging Out

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> A second meeting, now with chocolate.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

>  **Disclaimer:** It's not mine, it's all J. K. Rowling's.
> 
> Annie Talbot and Machshefa are the lovely ladies who beta-read this fic! *hugs*

Severus had been very quiet since she’d been back in London. Hermione was used to their daily letters now and missed them very much. What could have caused this silence? Hermione tried to recall what she’d said in her last letter, but she couldn’t remember anything in it that could have offended him.

Maybe an offence was not what Hermione should be looking for, she realized and blushed. Could he be aware of the real nature of her feelings for him? Could he know that she’d been thinking about him as more than the friend he wordlessly agreed to be?

Hermione sighed.

She hadn’t intended for this to happen, but as her mother always said, there are some things that just can’t be helped. Love, infatuation, passion, whatever it was that she felt for Severus was amongst those things. She just couldn’t help it; she’d fallen for this mysterious, intelligent, surprisingly funny man; a complicated wizard whose history was intertwined with that of their world. A wizard she wanted to understand, and care for, and protect, and love…. 

Hermione had come to terms with those feelings and was happy with them, but Severus had no clue about how she felt. It was too soon, they were still getting to know each other, and she couldn’t simply Apparate to where he was and kiss him. 

The thought of kissing Severus distracted her from the problem at hand. She’d bought chocolate truffles for him on her last day in Bulgaria, and she couldn’t stop thinking about his lips closing around the candy, making it melt within their warmth.... 

Hermione wet her lips that had gone suddenly dry with the thought. This fantasy wouldn’t be happening anytime soon if she didn’t figure out what was wrong with Severus, why he hadn’t written a letter in two days. Conjuring every possible reason was a futile exercise. She left the couch and went looking for parchment and quill instead. She would write to him and see what he would say – hoping that he would say something.

~o0oOo0o~

 _**Dear Severus,** _

_**I’ve been in London since Monday and work is taking most of my time. What have you been up to? I haven’t heard from you in a while. I miss your impossible explanations for your survival, your recommendations for books, the accounts of your miserable days. I miss you.** _

_**I’m looking forward to our meeting this weekend. I don’t know where we could go, though. Was there some place you wanted to visit? You could show me that wizarding museum you told me about, or if you don’t want to go too far from the castle, we could have lunch at the Three Broomsticks. Do you have something in mind?** _

_**Did the defense drills I suggested work? I hope your seventh-years are all fine and healthy.** _

_**I’ll be waiting for your answer.** _

_**Love,  
Hermione** _

Severus traced the last two words of her letter, like he did every time the owl found him somewhere private. He sighed.

_I missed you, too, Hermione._

He’d tried to stay away from her, he’d tried to believe that now that she was back near her friends she wouldn’t even realize he’d stopped writing, but Severus was apparently wrong. She missed him; what were the odds of that? Hermione Granger would be the end of him.

“Damn!” he cursed.

~o0oOo0o~

 _**Hermione,** _

_**I’m afraid I won’t be able to meet you this weekend. Hogwarts is at its full capacity, needing its Heads of House to keep the castle from imploding. We can keep communicating through letters until we can find a better date.** _

_**Did you finish reading my last recommendation? If you liked it, I have more to recommend along the same line.** _

_**The defense drills were a success, a very good idea.** _

_**Severus** _

Hermione felt a pang in her heart by the end of his letter.

 _He’s avoiding me again._ She sighed. 

She knew there wouldn’t be a better date, he would keep coming with excuses, and as far as excuses went, the possible implosion of Hogwarts could not fool Hermione. It hurt, and there was nothing she could do about it. 

His letter was a confirmation that Severus knew how she felt about him, and this was his gentle way to say “no, thank you”. He was keeping her away, trying to be kind and say they could continue with the letters, but being kind was not Severus’ best skill, so….

If that was his decision, she should respect it. She would stay away.

Hermione folded the letter and placed it gently over the book she was reading – one of his recommendations – and took her aching heart to bed.

~o0oOo0o~

“The toast is offending you again, Severus?”

“Can’t you just drop it, Minerva?” he said without giving her much attention.

Severus had been glaring at his breakfast without touching it. It was Saturday, and it’d been two days with no sign of Hermione. He was so absorbed in his thoughts of her that he didn’t take notice of how Minerva scrutinized him.

“What did you say to Hermione?” Minerva asked.

He looked sharply at her, startled by the unexpectedness of the question. He looked away and watched the first-years take their seats for the meal, trying to cover his surprised reaction. “What are you talking about?” 

“Not toast, obviously,” she said. “I know you’ve been exchanging letters with Hermione Granger for quite some time now, but it’s been days since the last one. I can only assume it’s your fault. What did you say? Did you finally tell her how you feel about her?”

He narrowed his eyes to look back at her. “How I feel about Hermione? Are you senile?”

“Hermione, huh?” 

Severus cursed his slip of the tongue. Minerva wouldn’t let go now; he was in for the whole sermon.

“Does she feel the same way?” Her smile was disconcerting.

He took a sip of coffee to warm his cold throat. “Feel what?” 

“Oh, drop it, Severus. You’re alive, she’s alive. Contrary to what you like people to believe, I know that you have a heart. I can’t see what’s wrong with developing feelings for an intelligent, beautiful young woman,” Minerva insisted.

His frown deepened. _Can’t she see the impropriety in her own words?_

“We’ve been discussing some spells, that’s all. As far as I know, this has nothing to do with _feeling_ anything,” he replied. 

“You’re too young to be this bitter, Severus. If you didn’t say anything, what happened?”

Severus decided to ignore her. It became incredibly difficult after enduring her incessant stare. He sighed, looking back at her.

“She wanted to meet me this weekend, but I’m too busy. Now, can you mind your own business?” he asked, annoyed.

“Oh, Severus, dear.” Her tone was so soft it scared him. “You could use some time away from Hogwarts from time to time, and Hermione is very good company. Take a break and go see your girl.”

“Are you suggesting that I leave the Great Hall and go straight to shag your precious Gryffindor angel?” He hoped she would see the absurdity of what she was implying.

“Don’t be silly, Severus.” She patted his hand. “There are no angels in Gryffindor.”

“Minerva!” he hissed, surprised. He couldn’t hide his reaction to her words. He’d known Minerva since he was eleven, and never in all this years had she spoken to him like that, about that. It was disconcerting, to say the least.

Minerva chuckled, patting his hand a last time before saying, “Eat your toast, Severus. You’ll need your strength.”

That was too much. He stood up and left the Great Hall. Everyone around him had gone insane, and they were trying to take him with them. Severus prized his sanity.

~o0oOo0o~

Hermione paced her flat. From the hearth to the kitchen balcony, then to the window and back in front of the hearth again, Crookshanks following from the couch, turning his head to watch her. She’d cleaned, organized, read, but nothing could take her mind off of Severus, and pacing was making her even more restless. 

_It’s hopeless!_

She threw her arms in the air and fell to the couch beside her cat, tired of pacing. He stared at her for a moment before hiding his head in the cushions. It was past noon on Sunday, and she hadn’t had lunch yet. Not that she cared. What she should do was eat enormous quantities of chocolate ice-cream and watch sappy movies. At least, that was how women coped with this sort of thing, right? 

Chocolate….

That reminded her of the box of truffles she’d bought for Severus in Sofia. That would be just as efficient as the ice-cream, with the added bonus of depriving Severus of them. It was irrational, but Hermione was angry because he was pushing her away. 

She stood up and went to retrieve the box. Back to the couch, she ripped the gift paper from the box, opened it, and popped one candy out. She bit into it, expecting some kind of comfort from the act. All it did was made her think about Severus biting it, humming in pleasure. 

_Oh gods!_

She sighed. There was no way she would forget him with chocolate. She took another bite, now out of frustration. Why did he have to push her away? Why did he have to hide every time she mentioned meeting him? He couldn’t deny that there was something between them, even if it was only friendship on his part. Friends should meet, too. 

_This is not working_ , she thought, glaring and then eating the rest of the piece of candy. 

“What he’s doing is wrong, Crooks.” She petted the orange fur of her cat. “I can’t go on like this.”

She would never see him again if she didn’t do something; she would never hear his velvety voice humming or laughing… and she should! She wanted to see him, and that feeling wouldn’t go away just because he wanted it to. She had to do something about it, or she would die from frustration.

“I’m going to Hogwarts,” she declared.

Decided, she leaped to her feet and went quickly to her bedroom. She changed clothes – she didn’t want to look desperate, but she didn’t have to look all beat up, either – pulled the box of chocolates close to her, and before she lost the courage, Apparated to the gates of Hogwarts. Without thinking twice about what she was doing, she took the path leading to the front doors of the castle.

The warmth inside was welcoming. A few students turned to see who was entering the castle. She strolled quickly towards the dungeons, away from their prying eyes. Now was not the time to feel like a third-year out after curfew. 

She met more students on her way down the dark halls. Quickly – maybe too quickly – she reached the door to his office. She had to knock, she knew it. What would she tell him? What excuse did she have to be there? 

_Nice plan, Hermione_ , she mocked herself.

She took a deep breath and raised her right hand to knock and startled when the door was flung open.

“Hermione?” he said, obviously surprised with her presence there.

“Good afternoon, Severus,” she greeted awkwardly. “I….” It was more difficult to come up with something to say now that he was staring at her. “I… was in Hogsmeade and I had these chocolates I bought in Sofia for you and I thought I could take advantage of my trip and bring them to you, but I know you’re busy–”

“Hermione,” he interrupted, still looking intently at her.

_Gods, my name in his voice!_

She offered the box, at a loss of what to do and certain that she should do something, say something. 

He accepted it, and she averted her eyes from his, blushing. “I–”

“Come in,” he said before she could say anything else.

His office was exactly how she remembered it. It made her uncomfortable to be there in such different circumstances. It was a bit unsettling, and Severus seemed to notice her uneasiness. He went to a shelf and pulled out a book. The shelves moved to reveal a concealed door, which he opened, stepping aside to beckon her. “After you.”

Hermione entered the narrow space that soon opened to an ample room. The light was dim and cozy, a fire crackled from the hearth, casting shadows into the room. Hermione realized it was his quarters. 

“Take a seat,” he offered, pointing to the armchairs by the hearth. “Would you like to drink something?”

“Tea, please.” She chose one of the chairs and settled in, looking around the room. It was filled with books on shelves that went from floor to ceiling. There were few items of decoration, but those few were enough, in Hermione’s opinion. The desk on one side, covered with piles of papers and books, gave the room a feeling of being lived in that Hermione found most comforting. 

Her contemplations were interrupted when a teacup appeared in front of her. She accepted it, sipping and watching Severus take the other armchair with his usual grace. 

The silence was making her nervous. Things were much easier on parchment.

He observed her from the rim of his own teacup. “You didn’t answer my last letter.”

From all the things she thought he would say, that wasn’t one of them. It was mostly unexpected. 

“You were busy,” she answered. “I didn’t think you were expecting an answer,” she said, letting some of her insecurity tinge her answer.

He raised an eyebrow at her, then placed his teacup on a table between the two armchairs. “I thought I’d said we would continue to correspond until we could meet.”

“I’m here now.”

“But you weren’t yesterday, or the day before.”

 _What is this all about?_ Hermione thought, frowning at him. “I thought you were busy, because you _said_ you would be _busy_.”

“To meet!” he said. “I could still manage my correspondence without any problem.”

“Severus, this is ridiculous!” 

That silenced him and gave her some time to try to understand what was going on. She was distracted when he rose from the armchair and seemed to be looking for some book on the shelves, except that he wasn’t.

“I think I should go,” Hermione said after the silence stretched for far too long. She stood and looked around for the door they had come through.

“Wait.” His quiet word called her attention. He turned to look at her. “You’re already here. Please, stay.”

That warmed the cold feeling in the pit of her stomach; the fear she’d felt by his unexpected hostility dissolving into something bearable.

“I’m sorry I didn’t answer the letter,” she caught herself apologizing. 

He sighed, walking back to the armchair. She sat on the one she’d vacated moments before.

“Hermione, I’m not good at this sort of thing,” he said, looking fixedly at his hand, which played with the arm of the chair.

Hermione melted at the sight of his shyness. It was so rare to see Severus Snape vulnerable in any way. His ineptitude was kind of endearing, she thought.

“Severus,” she called, and only continued to speak when he looked at her, “you’re being silly.” She smiled, unable to prevent her lightness of heart to show.

He made a show of rolling his eyes at her. 

“You’re not really that busy, are you?” When the little expression existent on his face disappeared under a mask of coldness, before he could say anything, Hermione anticipated, “I understand that you can’t leave the castle at the mercy of the devil students pending risk of implosion and all that, what I’m asking is if you would mind my company. I’m good in Defense. We could make a good team. The students have no chance.” She smiled again, this time less convincingly. 

_What if he rejects me? What was I thinking to propose this?_ Hermione expected the worst.

“Why would you want that?”

Better than the worst, she thought.

“We’re friends, Severus, and that’s what friends do. They hang around, spend time together, talk about nonsense,” she explained, hoping he would buy that. She needed to be close to him, that was the reason, but she couldn’t say that to him.

“Fine,” he said. 

She looked up from her hands, surprised that he’d agreed.

“On one condition,” he added, and Hermione’s smile never showed, “you’ll grade my first-year essays.”

“You can’t help yourself, can you?”

He arched an eyebrow and his eyes danced with amused curiosity.

“Fine, but I’ll be nice and give them all ‘O’s.” She couldn’t help but smiling. She was baiting Severus Snape and he was baiting her back.

“You’ll only point out the errors. I’ll say what the grades will be.” He stood from the armchair and walked to the desk. With a murmured spell, a stack of parchments flew from his office to land neatly in the center

“I’ll give them ‘O’s, and there is nothing you can do about it.”

He took half of the essays and gave it to her. “You’ll grade half, I’ll grade the other half. If you give them ‘O’s, you’ll be unfair to the half I’ll grade.”

“Slytherin bastard,” she murmured, taking the pile of parchments and the quill and ink he provided her.

On the inside, Hermione felt light and silly, happy that he wasn’t throwing her out.

~o0oOo0o~

Severus sat on his desk, a pile of essays to be graded in front of him, but little grading being done. He couldn’t help but watch her when he knew she wasn’t looking. She was an angel, putting herself through first-year essays because of him, because she wanted to spend time with him.

_Angel…._

Minerva’s suggestive words came back to the forefront of his mind. _There are no angels in Gryffindor._ What kind of lover would Hermione be? Passionate, demanding fire, or like a delicate, tender flower? He could imagine her as both and that was doing things to his body. 

“You’re not grading your half,” she complained, peering at him out of the corner of her eye.

 _Caught daydreaming, old pervert?_ Severus admonished. “Someone has to supervise your work.”

She huffed and went back to work, and so did he. It’d been more than an hour of companionable work and furtive looks. He’d even made her laugh once. He’d forgotten how good this sort of joy could feel. When he’d suggested this task, he didn’t know why he was doing so; it seemed a natural thing to ask of a friend. Now he realized why he’d felt that way. This was the kind of time he’d often spent with Lily, only they would write and discuss essays instead of grading them.

Severus concentrated on his share of the grading, content with Hermione’s presence in the room. He lost himself in the task. That was why he stiffened startled when a hand fell on his shoulder. 

“Relax,” she said, and he tried to obey.

“What are you doing?”

“Have you ever noticed how tense you are when you work?” she asked, her hand moving on his shoulder, near his neck.

Merlin! His eyes closed when her move caused him pleasure. Her other hand jumped to his neglected shoulder to work there, too. He couldn’t suppress the sigh that slowly escaped his mouth.

Everything was more than perfect until…. 

His eyes popped open when she made to undo the highest of his frockcoat’s many buttons. He held her hand. “Hermione?” he asked unsure.

“I can’t feel your muscles through all this wool,” she justified. 

This was dangerous. He was already very aware of her hands, as parts of his body could attest, and he wanted to feel them on his bare skin, but what would happen if he let her open his coat? He didn’t know…. Lily had never done this to him; all his friendship parameters were useless now.

“Hermione, I’m more relaxed now than I’ve been in over twenty years.”

“You have no idea what relaxed means, do you?” she asked, but didn’t seem to be expecting any answer. “Where is the chocolate?”

“I put it away. Why?”

“I think we’ve graded more than enough essays for now. I’m going to teach you how to relax.”

Dangerous again. Chocolate and Hermione was a very dangerous combination, but of course, she didn’t know that.

 _You survived Lily; you can survive Hermione, too._

“I _am_ relaxed, Hermione,” he tried one last time.

“Nonsense,” she dismissed, and Severus was happy that she did.

She stepped back from his chair and went to area in front of the hearth, looking around for something. “Severus, do you mind if I Transfigure your furniture?”

“Go ahead.”

He watched her wand work and his armchairs turned into a large sofa. Sofa and Hermione was an even more dangerous combination.

“What are you still doing there?” she asked. “I need you over here.”

He looked suspiciously at the sofa. She came over him to take him by the hand.

“Come on. I promise it won’t fall when you sit on it.”

 _What about when you join me?_ he thought and immediately wanted to change his mind about this crazy idea. 

“Hermione, this is not a good idea.”

“Where is the chocolate?” she insisted.

“Hermione….”

She looked critically at him, biting her lower lip in the most enticing way. “Shoes off. Coat off.”

Her words lost impact when she proceeded to take off her own shoes. Severus could only watch in horror what was quickly becoming his downfall.

“Severus?”

 _She has no idea what she’s doing._ He unbuttoned his frock coat and thought that he would be damned if he was going to be the one breaking the news; not when she was the one who wanted him to relax. _Merlin forgive me…._

“Chocolate?”

“ _Accio chocolate_ ,” Severus called, and the box of candy flew to his hand. He handed it to her. The delight in her eyes was almost too much.

“Sit down.”

She helped him take off his boots.

“Lay down.”

“Bossy,” he complained, but acquiesced all the same. 

“Close your eyes,” she commanded next. 

He looked intently at her upon that request. He was suspicious by nature. 

She placed her hands on her hips, tapping her foot in a mock show of impatience. 

“You really are bossy, Hermione,” he told her and closed his eyes. “Prank me and beware of the consequences,” he warned her.

“Quiet now,” she told him, her voice closer to his face than before – she must have kneeled. “Open your mouth.”

“Hermione….” She couldn’t be doing what he thought she was doing. 

“Open it,” she commanded again, more softly this time.

He opened his lips slightly, and felt the warmth of the chocolate touch them. He almost moaned at this dream coming true. He darted his tongue out to taste it. He’d died and gone to Heaven. This couldn’t be real. Then she spoke.

“Take a bite.”

_Merlin…._

He closed his teeth, taking a chunk of the candy, and couldn’t hold his hum of pleasure. He chewed happily, enjoying every second. He opened his eyes then. Hermione was staring at his mouth with her own lips slightly parted. 

“Take a bite,” he told her. 

Her eyes came up from his mouth to his eyes.

“Go on,” he insisted.

She did as she was told, her eyes never leaving his. He watched as she closed the bitten candy in her mouth and chewed. _Perfection._

He reached for her hand and pulled it to his mouth, darting his tongue towards the remaining candy. She gasped, and he realized what he’d just done. He released her hand at once and averted his eyes, ashamed of himself. He had known this wasn’t wise from the beginning, but couldn’t stop him or her from getting this far. She must be horrified.

“You should go now,” he told her, moving into a sitting position and holding his head in his hands.

“Severus….”

“It’s late, Hermione. I have to finish my grading.”

“Severus, I’m sorry. It’s all my fault–”

“Leave, Hermione.”

He heard her move around, collecting her shoes and putting them back on. He could see the shadows her movements cast in the firelight. Suddenly, the movements ceased. He didn’t dare look up; he knew she was looking at him. Then there were footsteps growing farther and farther away, until he was unable to hear them, leaving the crackling fire as his only company.

He’d ruined it. He’d lost Hermione just like he’d lost Lily.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> **Coming next…** A happy ending?


	20. Happiness

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> A happy ending.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

>  **Disclaimer:** It's not mine, it's all J. K. Rowling's.
> 
> Annie Talbot and Machshefa are the lovely ladies who beta-read this fic! *hugs*

Hermione’s eyes were swollen from crying. She didn’t know what had possessed her at Hogwarts. She should have kept her hands to herself. All she’d had in mind was relaxing him so she could make him laugh. Such an innocent desire had turned into such a definitely not innocent one. 

Hermione shouldn’t have fed him the chocolate candy. She’d dreamed about it more than once, she had known that making this wish become real could only lead to disaster. 

She hugged the pillow, trying to avoid more tears. 

Everything had been so perfect until she’d touched him. They’d been spending a nice afternoon. They’d teased each other, much like they did in their letters, he’d shared his unorthodox humor about his students, she’d laughed, and after seeing his smug expression upon making her laugh, her mind had played the first trick on her. She’d wanted to make him laugh, like she’d been promising in her letters. 

_Stupid, stupid idea, Hermione!_

Tickling him was a very bad idea. Yes, that had been her intention when she Transfigured his armchairs and made him take his coat and shoes off. Feeding him chocolate was where she’d crossed over that thin line and destroyed their fragile friendship.

Hermione turned in bed, feeling uncomfortable but not knowing how to make the feeling go away. Eventually, she fell asleep, not a restful sleep, but one haunted by nightmares like she hadn’t in years.

~o0oOo0o~

Almost two weeks. It was Friday, and since that fatal Sunday he hadn’t heard from Hermione. Not that he’d thought she would come running after him after what he’d done. He hadn’t tried to contact her, either. How could he?

He missed her, of course. If someone observant would take Severus as a subject, one would notice how he didn’t go very long without reaching for his pocket, where he kept his Claddagh Ring – a token that reminded him only of Hermione these days, leaving Lily to be a ghost of his past.

He entered the Great Hall with a scowl worthy of his fame. Thinking about how he’d screwed things up with Hermione was not conducive to a good mood. Seeing Potter at the High Table, talking with Minerva, would definitely not achieve that either.

“Good evening, Severus,” Minerva greeted, as always.

He didn’t answer, as always. Taking his seat by her, he asked at once, “What’s _he_ doing here?”

“He needed to consult with Albus and I invited him for dinner,” Minerva explained. If only she’d kept her words at that…. “Do you know what I’ve been thinking?”

“I hope it has nothing to do with the house-elves’ toast,” he mumbled.

“No, Severus. Toast has been completely absent from your diet these past weeks, so what would you know about that? I was thinking that you could take advantage of Harry’s visit to inquire about Hermione. She hasn’t written in weeks, I’m sure you would be delighted with news.”

“She must be just fine.”

“Harry, are you sure of what you were saying about Hermione earlier?” Minerva asked Potter.

“I’m afraid so, Minerva,” Severus strained to hear Potter say. “I caught her crying at work last week and I’ve been observing her ever since. She’s miserable, but I don’t know why.”

 _She’s miserable? What have I done?_ Severus blamed himself for the situation he was hearing about.

“What do you think has depressed the poor girl?” Minerva continued to inquire of Potter.

“I’m not sure. When I asked, she told me she’d lost a ring and that she felt sad about it. I asked if I could help her find it, but she said she’d thrown it away, that it was all her fault. I couldn’t understand a word.”

Severus reached for his pocket reflexively upon hearing that, his mind working furiously to make sense of those words. 

“She blames herself?” he asked. Potter only stared at him in confusion. “You said that she thinks it’s all her fault. She’s blaming herself for what happened, you moron!”

He stood to leave, but in the midst of making his way to the side door, he paused and walked back to Potter and Minerva.

“Where does she live?” he asked the gaping man. Irritated with the lack of answer, he looked at Minerva, ignored her knowing smile, and said, impatiently, “Help him.”

Minerva reformulated his question. “Harry, where does Hermione live?” 

“Fourteen, Wingfield Court. It’s a flat. Are you thinking of going there?”

“The number, Potter, I need the number of her flat,” he demanded, running out of tolerance. 

“If you know what’s going on, I’m going with you.”

“The number, Potter!” Severus hissed.

“Tell him, Harry. I have a suspicion that only Severus will be able to help Hermione,” Minerva intervened, thankfully.

“Two. Why does….”

Severus didn’t stay to hear the rest of what Potter was saying. He had to go to his quarters, fetch his cloak, and leave for London. She was suffering because of him, because he was a Slytherin bastard, as she so wisely put it. He couldn’t let that go on for a moment longer. 

Soon Severus was at the gates of Hogwarts and a pop of Apparition from London. From the Apparition point he’d chosen, he didn’t have to walk much to get to the address Potter had given him. He looked up to the windows of the small building. There were lights coming from what he supposed was number two.

A young man had the main door opened when Severus looked down. He took the opportunity to enter the building. He climbed the stairs and stopped in front of her door.

He knocked.

~o0oOo0o~

Hermione was carrying Crookshanks to curl up on the couch with her when she heard a knock on the door. She hoped it wasn’t Harry. He’d been annoyingly protective these days since he’d found her crying. 

She looked through the magic eye of the door and froze. _Severus?_

She opened the door. It was really him.

“Severus,” she greeted, her voice hoarse.

“Hermione.”

“I– Come in.” She stepped aside so he could enter. She let Crookshanks down and gestured towards the couch. “Please, have a seat.”

He seemed to hesitate, but agreed to sit by her side on the couch. _He’s still obviously uncomfortable in my presence._

“We need to talk,” he said. 

“Severus–”

He held a hand to interrupt her. She felt as if a knife twisted in her chest. 

“Allow me, Hermione. I owe you an apology. My behavior the last day we met was undeserving of you. I… I should never have done the things I did. You–”

“You didn’t do anything. Please don’t blame yourself. I shouldn’t have suggested any of that. It wasn’t supposed to go that way. I just wanted you to relax, to make you laugh, but I got carried away. You didn’t even want to see me that day; I shouldn’t have gone to Hogwarts in the first place,” she countered. She couldn’t let him take blame for a situation when he was not at fault.

He was looking oddly at her. 

“If you’re willing to forgive me, I can promise to behave like the friend you see in me. I can do that for you. I know you trusted me and that I’ve failed you, but if you give me another chance, it won’t happen again,” she pleaded with him. 

Now that he was here, face to face with her, she couldn’t let him slip away from her life again. It was selfish, but she had to try. There was no happiness without him; these weeks had proved so.

“Hermione.”

She couldn’t look at him.

“Hermione, please look at me,” he asked, again.

She complied, blushing bright red under his gaze. 

“What do you think you did that day?” he asked, never letting her eyes drop.

“I fed you chocolate. I wanted to see it melt in your mouth, to hear you hum in pleasure.” She blushed to the tips of her toes. “I’d been dreaming about that, I’m sorry. I should have known you wouldn’t want any of that.”

“You’d been… _dreaming_ about feeding me chocolate.” His voice had a breathy quality when he said that.

Hermione found the courage to look up at his face again. He looked surprised at her admission. _Of course he is, you twit! He never thought of you that way!_ she admonished herself.

“Merlin,” he whispered.

 _He’s horrified_ , she thought. “I’m sorry.”

“Stop apologizing, Hermione,” he told her.

She had nothing else to say if he didn’t want her apologies. She felt like crying just like she’d done that fateful day in his quarters.

“Are you saying you have… _feelings_ for me?” he asked.

“I do,” she confessed quietly. It was no good hiding anymore.

He moved closer to her on the couch. He pitied her, she knew. He disentangled her hands and held her right in his. She didn’t know which of them was shaking, but their united hands trembled. 

He fumbled in a pocket of his robes with his free hand, and after some struggle and murmured curses, he produced a ring – his Claddagh Ring.

“Hermione,” he said. He was so close that she could feel his breath on her skin. 

She finally looked up from their hands. His eyes from this distance were even more fascinating than Hermione remembered.

“I’ve heard that you’ve been missing this ring,” he said, looking her in the eyes. “I want you to have it,” he added, and proceeded to slip it onto her ring finger.

Hermione didn’t know what to say. All she could do was look in awe between his face and their hands, her heart racing in her chest. The ring was too big for her finger. She wanted to tell him that and so much more, but her voice had completely left her. 

“I give you this Claddagh Ring, Hermione Granger, and want you to wear it as a sign of our feelings of friendship and companionship.”

When his voice completed those words, the ring shank into a perfect size to fit her finger. Hermione gasped, looking sharply up at him, eyes big.

“Does this mean we’re friends or–”

She never finished her question. His lips descended on hers, silencing her. He kissed her, never letting go of her hand. His mouth opened to take more of her in, and she couldn’t believe her luck while she slipped her tongue to meet his, moaning into his mouth, melting in his arms.

But they had to breathe.

“Severus,” she whispered against his moist lips. “I never missed the ring; I missed you.” She made him release her hand to have both of hers on his face, caressing his skin and pushing his hair away from his eyes. Staring at those dark pools, Hermione kissed him gently, working her lips over his with veneration. His hands came up to her face and neck, holding her more firmly to deepen the kiss. 

They were lost in each other, feeding from their passion, for delightful moments. His passion was so reassuring. Hermione wanted nothing more than to surrender herself to this man, body and soul. His hands, his lips, his taste, his mind, his heart… she wanted all of him. 

He had been holding her since the first kiss. She rested her head on his chest, almost falling asleep listening to his heartbeats, when the vibration caused by his voice made her alert. His last words had been those of the enchantment that had activated the charm on the ring.

“I’m not good at this,” he was saying. 

She looked up to meet his eyes.

“I’ve never been in a relationship.” He was frowning. “You’re my first girlfriend.”

So that was what he’d been thinking about while running his hand through her hair. Suddenly, she realized the enormity of what he was telling her.

“Does this mean that you never…” She trailed off, blushing.

He chuckled, sending waves of sound through the hand she had pressed to his chest. He bent his head, taking his lips so close to her ear. “I assure you that I’ve experimented enough in that area and am not lacking in those skills.”

The feel of his breath together with his words sent a shiver down her spine. “Gods,” she let out.

The sound he made at her reaction was more than a chuckle. 

“Are you laughing?” she asked.

“I don’t laugh, remember?”

She put some distance between them on the couch to better look at him. “Now you do,” she told him, and ran her hands from his chest along his ribs, seeking sensitive spots to tickle, hoping to produce his elusive laughter.

He jerked away from her hands. “Stop that,” he warned her.

“Where are you ticklish?” she asked, still searching for the right spot.

“I’m not.” He jerked again. “Hermione, I’m warning you.”

Another jerk and he attacked her, tickling her easily. She laughed, begging him to stop, breathless on the couch. He had a wide grin on his face, undoubtedly from his success in getting her to surrender. She stuck out her tongue to him, and that simple, childish act did it. He started to laugh, throwing his head back and emitting the most rich, beautiful sound she’d ever heard. 

She grinned at him when he finally stopped. “Beautiful,” she told him.

“Only for you,” he answered, kissing her again.

~o0oOo0o~

“Hermione, something tells me that I’ll regret asking this, but how could Snape make you so happy?” 

“Harry, he found my ring.” She showed _her_ Claddagh Ring to her friend, and Harry seemed relieved with her answer, until she added, “And he shagged me all weekend.”

Harry’s face was priceless; Hermione laughed. Even if Severus never told her how he survived that snake attack and let the Claddagh Ring slip away, she would be forever grateful for the forces that had acted that day. If she was happy, it was because those events had changed their lives.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> It was a sugared ending. I hope you liked it. :0)
> 
> I’d like to thank again my betas, Annie Talbot and Machshefa, for their support before, during and after the writing of these words. *hugs*


End file.
